i  COUNTRY  COUSIN 


TARKINGTON  and  JULIAN  STREET 


Ifl4 


;AMUEL  FRENCH.  22-30  w^st  38th  si.. 


9  to 

Tse? 


The  Country  Cousin 


A  COMEDY  IN  FOUR  ACTS 

BY 
BOOTH\TARKINGTON 


AND 

JULIAN  STREET 


All  Rights  Reserved 


CAUTION. — Professionals  and  amateurs  are  hereby 
warned  that  "THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN,"  being 
fully  protected  under  the  copyright  laws  of  the 
United  States  of  America,  Great  Britain  and  the 
Dominion  of  Canada,  is  subject  to  a  royalty,  and  any 
one  presenting  the  play  without  the  consent  of  the 
authors  or  their  authorized  agents  will  be  liable  to 
the  penalties  by  law  provided.  Applications  for  the 
amateur  acting  rights  must  be  made  to  Samuel 
French,  28-30  West  38th  Street,  New  York.  Appli 
cations  for  the  professional  acting  rights  must  be 
made  to  George  C.  Tyler,  New  Amsterdam  Theatre 
Building,  West  42nd  Street,  New  York. 


New  York: 
SAMUEL  FRENCH 

Publisher 
28-30   West   38th    Street 


London : 

SAMUEL  FRENCH,  Ltd. 

26  Southampton  Street 

Strand 


Copyright,  January  20,   1916    (under  the  title  "The 
Ohio  Lady"),  by  N.  Booth  Tarkington. 

Copyright,    March    14,    1916    (under   the    title    "The 

Ohio  Lady"),  by  N.  Booth  Tarkington  and 

Julian  Street. 

Revised,  1917,  by  N.  Booth  Tarkington  and  Julian 
Street. 

Copyright,  1921,  by  N.  Booth  Tarkington  and  Julian 
Street. 

Also  copyright  in  Great  Britain  and  The  Dominion 

of  Canada,  1921,  by  N.  Booth  Tarkington  and 

Julian  Street. 


All  Rights  Reserved. 


Especial  notice  should  be  taken  that  the  possession 
of  this  book  without  a  valid  contract  for  production 
first  having  been  obtained  from  the  publisher,  con 
fers  no  right  or  license  to  professionals  or  amateurs 
to  produce  the  play  publicly  or  in  private  for  gain 
or  charity. 

In  its  present  form  this  play  is  dedicated  to  the 
reading  public  only,  and  no  performance  of  it  may 
be  given  except  by  special  arrangement  with  Samuel 
French,  28-30  West  38th  Street,  New  York. 

SECTION  28 — That  any  person  who  wilfully  or  for 
profit  shall  infringe  any  copyright  secured  by  this 
act,  or  who  shall  knowingly  and  wilfully  aid  or  abet 
such  infringement  shall  be  deemed  guilty  of  a  mis 
demeanor,  and  upon  conviction  thereof  shall  be 
punished  by  imprisonment  for  not  exceeding  one 
year,  or  by  a  fine  of  not  less  than  one  hundred  nor 
more  than  one  thousand  dollars,  or  both,  in  the  dis 
cretion  of  the  court 

Act  of  March  4,  1909. 


The  following  in  a  copy  of  the  play-bill  of  the  first  per 
formance  of  "THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN." 

GAIETY  THEATRE,  NEW  YORK,  SEPT.  8,  1917 
MESSRS.  KLAW  &  ERLANGER 

AND 

GEORGE  C.  TYLER 
PRESENT 

ALEXANDRA  CARLISLE 
IN 

BOOTH  TARKINGTON  and  JULIAN  STREET'S 

NEW   AMERICAN    COMEDY    IN    FOUR   ACTS 
ENTITLED 

"THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN" 
Staged  by  Robert  Milton 


3 

51745? 


THE  PLAYERS 
(In  the  order  of  their  appearance.) 

MRS.  HOWITT Miss  Julia  Stuart 

ELEANOR  HOWITT Miss  Marion  Coakley 

SAM  WILSON.  . , Mr.  Donald  Gallaher 

NANCY  PRICE Miss  Alexandra  Carlisle 

GEORGE  TEWKSBERRY  REYNOLDS,  3rd 

Mr.  Eugene  O'Brien 

STANLEY  HOWITT Mr.  Arthur  Forrest 

ATHALIB  WAINWRIGHT ..Miss  Louise  Prussing 

MRS.  JANE  KINNEY Miss  Eleanor  Gordon 

CYRIL  KINNEY Mr.  Donald  Foster 

MRS.  MAUD  HOWITT Miss  Clara  Blandick 

ARCHIE  GORE Mr.  Charles  Mackay 

PRUITT Mr.  George  Wright,  Jr. 

BLAKE Mr.  Albert  Tavernier 

THE  TIME  is  1916. 


THE  SCENES 

ACT      I. — The  sitting-room  at  Mrs.  Howitt's,  Cen- 
terville,  Ohio.     A  June  morning. 

ACT    II.— A  "Villa"  by  the  Sea.    An  August  after 
noon. 

ACT  III.— Inside  the  "Villa."     The  same  evening. 

ACT  IV. — The  same  as  Act  III.    The  next  morn 
ing. 


THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN 


ACT  I 

SCENE:  Sitting-room  at  MRS.  HOWITT'S,  Center- 
mile,  Ohio.  A  June  morning.  A  pleasant, 
homelike,  incongruous  interior  of  the  Eighties 
and  Nineties.  Two  -windows,  rectangular  ob 
longs,  plain  (with  no  small  panes)  in  back. 
Cream-colored  shades  and  lace  curtains.  Door 
L.U.  in  L.  wall,  leading  to  a  porch.  Upper  part 
of  door  opaque  frosted  glass,  designed  with 
floral  emblems.  When  the  door  is  opened,  bal 
ustrade  of  porch  seen  and  shrubberies  close  be 
yond.  Close  foliage  seen  through  windows. 
Door  to  interior  R.C.  Book  shelves  between 
windows  and  cornering  upper  R.  wall  and  back; 
also  down  of  door  R.C.  Wall  paper  figured 
in  small,  neutral  design,  quiet  but  not  drab. 
Furniture  Eastlake;  rather  nondescript,  but 
comfortable  and  somewhat  inane.  No  "Co 
lonial" ;  no  wicker;  no  "Mission."  Piano  up 
R.C.  dull  blue  "throw"  over  back  with  fringe. 
Wooden  framed  family  photographs  on  piano. 
Black  plaster  or  terra-cotta  bust  of  Dante  on 
book-shelves  between  windows.  Other  orna 
ments  on  book-shelves;  a  couple  of  green 
bronze  Pompeian  lamps;  small  souvenir  -Ro 
man  columns;  marble ;  china  candlesticks;  sea 
shells  and  a  fezv  small,  baddish  water-colors; 
family  photographs  framed  in  wood  and  plush. 
Marble-topped  center  table  zvith  books  and  a 
china  vase,  empty.  Large  engraving  of  Gcn- 
5 


6  THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN 

eral  Grant  on  zvall  over  shelves  between  win 
dows.  Beneath  it  (on  'Wall)  a  Civil  War  offi 
cer's  sword.  Other  engravings:  "President 
Rutherford  B.  Hayes  and  his  cabinet,"  t( Battle 
of  Gettysburg/'  "A  Reading  from  Homer." 
Medium  slow  curtain  on  rise  after  piano  has 
played  introduction  of  "Absent." 
DISCOVERED:  MRS.  HOWITT  is  seated  cut  the  piano, 
playing.  She  is  a  gentle  but  rather  careworn 
forty-five;  wears  half -mourning.  She  is  play 
ing  the  air  of  the  song  "Absent" 

ELEANOR  R.c.  She  is  a  pretty  young  thing, 
altogether  girlish  and  provincial.  Her  blue  and 
white  "Peter  Thompson"  suit  is  becoming 
enough  but  without  "smartness"  or  style.  ELEA 
NOR  seated  on  sofa  R.c.  with  feet  up.  Bored 
with  MRS.  HOWITT'S  playing.  Looks  pleadingly 
at  her  as  if  begging  her  to  stop.  MRS.  HOWITT 
continues  playing — ELEANOR  stands  it  as  long 
as  possible — gets  up — goes  to  c.  Gives  a  little 
jump — looks  at  MRS.  HOWITT — then  goes  to 
bookcase  up  c. — selects  book — comes  down  L.C. 
— goes  around  couch  L.  and  is  about  to  sit  when 
SAM'S  voice  is  heard  off  L.  She  puts  fingers  in 
her  ears — squeals  and  jumps  up  and  down  in 
anger.  The  voice  of  SAM  WILSON  is  heard 
calling,  off. 

SAM.  (Off)  Oh,  Eleanor!  Oh,  Eleanor! 
Come  on  out! 

('ELEANOR,  hearing  SAM  call,  puts  fingers  in  ears — 
Jumps  up  and  down  in  anger.) 

MRS.  HOWITT.  (Still  playing)  Isn't  that  Sam 
Wilson  calling  you,  Eleanor? 

ELEANOR.  (Drily)  Let  him  call !  (Throws  her 
self  on  couch — puts  feet  upon  it)  Mamma,  I  do 


THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN  7 

wish  you  wouldn't  play  "Absent."  You've  been 
playing1  it  so  much  lately.  What's  the  matter  with 
something  cheerfuller? 

MRS.  H.  (Her  voice  sad)  It  isn't  very  cheerful, 
is  it  ? 

SAM.  (Off)  Oh,  Eleanor!  Aren't  you  coming 
out?  Oh,  El—  eanor! 

ELEANOR.  (Very  much  annoyed)  Isn't  he 
tedious  ? 

BELL 

(A  bell  upon  door  L.u.  rings;  it  is  not  an  elec 
tric  bell,  but  one  upon  the  door  itself,  rung  by 
turning  a  knob  outside.  MRS.  HOWITT  stops 
playing,  turns  toward  the  door  and  after  an  in 
stant's  thought,  half  rises  to  go  and  open  it.) 

ELEANOR.  I'll  go,  Mamma.  It's  only  Sammy. 
(She  crosses  to  door  L.uJ 

MRS.  H.  (Nervously.  She  watches  the  door  ap 
prehensively)  Oh,  all  right,  dear. 

ELEANOR.  (At  door,  alluding  to  the  person  out 
side  indifferently)  Old  thing!  (Opens  the  door) 
What  you  want,  Sam  ? 

SAM.  (Entering)  'Lo,  Eleanor.  Good  morn 
ing,  Mrs.  Howitt. 

(He  is  nineteen;  very  boyish  and  of  an  intense  look 
and  manner;  and  profoundly  serious;  an  Ohio 
State  College  student.  Coat  and  trousers  not 
new,  and  a  little  skimpy — high-school  fashion; 
no  waistcoat;  no  hat.  Hair  long,  (< pompadour" 
on  top;  skinned  to  above  the  ears — mongolian 
fashion;  blue  and  red  bow  tie  under  soft  col 
lar;  one  flank  of  latter  rising  against  his  cheek.) 

ELEANOR.     (Indifferently)     What  you  want? 
MRS.  H.     (Turning  over  some  music  at  the  piano 
where  she  remains  seated)    Good  morning,  Sammy. 


8  THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN 

SAM.  (His  manner  is  hurried  and  earnest)  I 
came  over — (He  crosses  to  MRS.  HOWITT,  leaving 
door  open.  ELEANOR  glares  after  him,  then  slams 
door) — I  came  in  here  to  see  if  I  could  borrow  your 
copy  of  Shakespeare's  Hamlet  again.  (Turning  to 
the  book-shelves)  It's  for  an  oration.  (Runs  his 
hand  through  his  hair,  disarranging  it.) 

MRS.  H.     Certainly,  Sammy. 

(SAM  reaches  the  shelves.) 

ELEANOR.  (No  pause)  What  you  want  to  be 
making-  orations  in  vacation  for? 

SAM.  (Back  to  front  as  he  looks  in  shelves, 
stooping)  I  got  the  future  to  think  of,  haven't  I? 
(Serious  and  quick.) 

ELEANOR.  (Nat  pleased.  Coming  doivn  L.  Sits 
extremes.)  Oh,  my! 

SAM.  (Straightening  up  suddenly,  book  in  hand; 
wide  gesture  of  argument  to  her.  He  speaks  rap-1 
idly,  habitually)  You  take  the  fellows  that  loaf  all 
their  vacation,  where'll  they  be  time  I'm  in  politics, 
Congress  ?  I'm  goin'  to  get  somewhere  in  this  short 
life  we  got,  I  tell  you !  (More  mildly,  crossing  to 
MRS.  HOWITT  at  c.)  I  get  a  lot  out  o'  Shakespeare ; 
he's  a  good  writer.  Every  now  and  then,  when  Pm 
workin'  on  an  oration  I  come  up  against  somep'n 
that  sticks  me — somep'n  I  can't  seem  to  work  out 
right.  Well,  sir,  time  and  again,  if  I  got  a  copy  of 
Shakespeare  handy  I  find  he's  got  just  what  I  want, 
and  half  the  time  he's  got  it  worked  out  better'n  I 
could  myself. 

ELEANOR.     (Blandly)     He  must  be  good! 

SAM.  (Emphatically.  Going  to  ELEANOR,)  He 
is  !  (This  is  naive  and  serious.) 

MRS.  H.  You  think  a  great  deal  about  Congress, 
Sam? 

SAM.     (Going    to    MRS.    HOWITT  J      I'd   like  to 


THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN  9 

stand  up  there  once,  Mrs.  Howitt,  and  tell  'ern^how 
to  run  this  country !  Just  a  few  minutes,  that's  all 
I'd  ask! 

ELEANOR.  (Goes  up  L.  Marveling  at  his  con 
ceit.  Kneels  on  couch  L. — speaking  over  back  of 
it)  You  think  you  could  tell  'em,  do  you,  Sam?  In 
a  few  minutes? 

SAM.  (Vehemently.  Going  toward  her — pulling 
chair  with  him  as  he  goes  to  L.cJ  Me?  Why,  you 
could  tell  'em !  Look  what  this  Government's  policy 
was  in  Central  America!  Look  what  that  policy's 
been  ever  since  the  European  conflict,  the  most  de 
structive  known  to  man  in  all  the  ages,  the  most 
dangerous  to  the  peace  of  these  United  States  of 
America!  What  was  that  policy,  just  let  me  ask 
you?  (Oratorically  to  ELEANOR )  I  ask  you  I  State 
the  policy  of—  (Broken  speech.) 

ELEANOR.  (Crisply.  Goes  down  L.)  Oh,  talk 
about  batter  cakes ! 

MRS.  H.  You  mustn't  say  that,  Eleanor.  It's  a 
good  thing  for  a  young  man  to  take  an  interest  in 
public  things. 

ELEANOR.  (Coldly)  He  isn't  a  young  man — 
yet. 

SAM.  (Coming  down  L.c.J  I  may  not  have  any 
great  political  power  to-day,  but  I'm  a  citizen  and  I 
expect  to  have  and  express  an  opinion  upon  each 

and  all  questions  of  the  hour 

ELEANOR.  (Calmly)  He  always  talks  like  this 
when  he's  working  on  one  of  his  orations,  Mamma. 
His  family  pretty  near  die. 

SAM.  (Grieved)  Don't  you  take  any  interest 
in  the  affairs  of  your  country,  Eleanor? 

ELEANOR.  (With  a  little  vanity)  I  finished  an 
essay  for  the  Girl's  Economic  Club  yesterday :  "Bi 
ological  Origins  of  Commercial  Wars."  My  essay 
says:  The  present  conflict  which  has  now  ravaged 
Europe  for  more  than  a  year  and  seven  months 


io  THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN 

SAM.     (Always  earnest)    I  beg  to  differ ! 
f  ELEANOR  starts  to  argue — MRS.  HOWITT  breaks  in.) 

MRS.  H.  (Still  at  piano.  Faintly  amused) 
What  with,  Sam? 

SAM.  (Crossing  to  couch  R.C.,  sits)  I  think  a 
woman's  position  is  the  Home,  not  lecturing  on 
Biology. 

ELEANOR.  (Derisively,  crossing  to  chair  L.C. — 
sits)  But  you  just  said (Broken  speech.) 

SAM.  (Interrupting)  I  want  you  to  take  an  in 
terest  in  public  affairs  and  all  questions  of  science 
and  metaphysics,  but  I  hold  you  should  see  every 
thing  like  that  through  your  husband's  eyes.  (Rises. 
Goes  to  her)  Your  place  is  preparing  the  Home, 
making  it  helpful  to  your  husband  while  he  wins 
his  position  on  the — on  the  'political  ladder.  Your 
work  is  to  study  to  make  domestic  matter's  yield  to 
the  hard,  worldly  struggle  of  your  husband! 

ELEANOR.     (Quietly)     Haven't  got  any. 

SAM.     (Quietly  and  decidedly)     You  will  have! 

MRS.  H.  (Mildly)  Not  for  several  years,  I 
hope,  Sammy. 

SAM.  (Goes  to  piano  R.C.  Holding  book  in  his 
left  hand  and  slapping  it  argument  at'wely  but 
lightly  with  his  right,  to  emphasise  his  points)  I 
don't  agree  with  you,  Mrs.  Howitt  I  hold  that  if 
a  woman  is  to  marry  an  ambitious  man,  a  man  who 
means  to  make  his  way  in  the  world  in  spite  of  every 
opposition — I  hold  that  that  man  and  woman  should 
marry  young — young — (Going  back  to  ELEANOR ) — 
at  the  time  when  that  man  most  needs  the  comfort 
of  that  woman'!s  sympathy  and  domestic  assistance ! 
(Raises  book  in  his  right  hand.) 

ELEANOR.  (Calmly)  Is  that  the  "Hamlet"  you 
were  looking  for? 

SAM.     (A  little  disconcerted,  glancing  at  book  to 


THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN  n 

see  what  it  is)  No.  It's  the  West  Virginia  Cook- 
Book.  (Goes  up  to  bookcase  c. — puts  book  back 
and  takes  another.) 

ELEANOR.  (Placidly  explaining  to  her  mother) 
He  always  likes  to  gesture  with  a  book  in  his  hand. 
Doesn't  matter  what  it  is. 

SAM.  (Coming  dozvn  to  her.  Beginning  hotly 
and  then  tapering  off)  Eleanor — that's — (Goes 
down  L.) — that's  neither  here  nor  there. 

ELEANOR.  (Placidly)  Well,  anyway,  I  don't 
think  I'd  ever  be  having  a  husband  from  this  town. 

SAM.  (Turns  quickly — goes  to  her,  speaks  with 
energy)  You  know  perfectly  will  that  I  intend  to 
begin  the  practice  of  law  in  Columbus.  I  never 
dreamed  of  askin*  you  to  settle  down  here. 

ELEANOR.  (Taken  aback,  derisive  and  incredu 
lous)  Asking  me!  Oh,  my  goodness! 

SAM.  (Somewhat  astonished  at  what  his  im 
petuosity  has  led  him  to  fay)  Well (Pauses.) 

ELEANOR.  (Staring  at  him  as  a  little  girl  stares 
at  a  boy  who  has  done  something  awful)  Sam  Wil 
son!  You  are  the  craziest (Gasps.) 

SAM.  (Recovering  himself,  his  manner  is  lofty, 
yet  off-hand.  Crosses  down  L.)  Well,  we'll  let  it 
go — for  the  present. 

MRS.  H.  (Gravely.  Rising,  crosses  to  ELEANOR, 
puts  hand  on  her  shoulder)  I  think  I  would,  Sam ! 
Eleanor  is (Broken  speech.) 

SAM.  (Becoming  really  dignified,  gentle  and  sim 
ple  for  the  moment.  Goes  up  to  L.  of  ELEANOR,) 
She's  young,  I  know,  Mrs.  Howitt.  I  didn't  mean 
to  carry  it  quite  so  far — not  for  the  present. 
^  ELEANOR.  (Derisive)  "For  the  present!" 
(Meaning  "no  use  at  any  time."  Rises — goes  up  R. 
to  piano  and  strikes  a  discord.  SAM  tries  to  speak 
through  this — can't — stops — MRS.  HOWITT  motions 
ELEANOR  to  stop  it.  She  does  so — SAM  continues) 

SAM.     (Continuing,    to    MRS.    HOWITTJ      Mrs. 


12  THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN 

Howitt,  I  don't  believe  in  any  man's  livin'  on  his 
wife's  money.  The  more  ambitious  that  man  is  for 
himself,  why,  the  less  he  ought  to  do  such  a  thing. 
("MRS.  HOWITT  agrees  with  him — crosses  R.  to  couch 
and  sits.  SAM  follows — to  back  of  table  R.c.J  I 
understand  ole  skinny  Ben — (Snaps  his  fingers) — I 
beg  your  pardon,  I  mean  Eleanor's  Uncle  Ben — I 
understand  he  left  Eleanor  a — substantial  sum  of 
money,  and  I  realize  that  is  a — a  serious  obstacle 
for  an  ambitious  man  to  overcome,  especially  under 
—under  the  circumstances.  But  there  are  lawyers 
in  this  country  to-day — (Becoming  a  little  oratori 
cal  again) — whose  income  from  practice  is  four 
times  as  large  as  the  salary  of  the  President  of 
these  United  States,  and  what  one  man  can  do, 
Mrs.  Howitt 

ELEANOR.  (Indicating  the  book)  Is  that  the 
copy  of  "Hamlet"? 

SAM.  (Looks  at  book.  Indignantly)  Yes,  it  is ! 
(Goes  few  steps  Lj 

ELEANOR.  (Rises.  Coldly,  not  pettishly)  Theii 
you'd  better  study  it  instead  of  talking  so  much 
about  me  and  the  President  of  the  United  States! 

SAM.  (Hotly,  crossing  to  her)  I'm  talking  about 
myself! 

ELEANOR.  (Sharply)  Yes!  All  the  time!  I 
never  heard  anybody  that (Broken.) 

MRS.  H.  (Gentle — but  a  little  worried)  You 
make  me  nervous,  children.  (Rises  and  goes  to  c. 
Turns)  I'm  going  over  to  sister  Sallie's.  fSAM 
crosses  to  door  L.,  opens  it  for  her.  Goes  toward' 
door,  speaking  as  she  goes)  Cousin  Nancy  Price 
will  be  in  from  her  farm  presently.  (Turns  at 
door)  Come  for  me  as  soon  as  Nancy  gets  here, 
Eleanor.  (Exit  U.L.  SAM  bows  as  she  exits.) 

ELEANOR.  (As  she  goes  around  R.  of  piano)  I 
will.  Maybe  I'll  come  before  that!  (Sits  on  R. 
end  of  couch  R.c.  With  a  cold  glance  at  SAM.) 


THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN  13 

SAM.  (Closes  door  and  comes  down  c.  Approv 
ingly,  looking  after  MRS.  HOWITTJ  Your  mother's 
a  tactful  woman!  She  understood  I  wanted  to  be 
alone  with  you. 

ELEANOR.  (Scornfully  amused)  Foot!  She 
didn't  think  anything  about  you  at  all!  You're 
always  thinking  people  are  thinking  about  you! 

SAM.  (With  mystic  conviction)  They  are. 
(Going  toward  her  a  step)  There  are  some  people 
in  this  world,  Eleanor,  that  people  can't  help  think 
ing  about  them ;  because  they're  different.  (Going 
to  her)  You  know  yourself,  I'm  not  like  any  of 
the  other  boys. 

ELEANOR.     They  all  claim  you're  not,  Sam! 

SAM.  (Gravely,  going  to  c.  Looking  after  MRS. 
HowiTTj  Yes,  sir,  your  mother  likes  me.  (Turns) 
I  can  feel  things  like  that.  (Coming  toward  her) 
She'd  be  glad — I  can  feel  it — (Sits  near  ELEANOR 
on  couch) — she'd  be  glad  if  you  and  I  were  en 
gaged  ! 

ELEANOR.  (Decidedly)  Well,  she'll  be  gloomy, 
then! 

SAM.  (As  if  inspired  with  prophecy)  No,  she 
won't!  Listen!  You  think  I'm  conceited 

ELEANOR.     (Loudly  protesting)     Oh,   no! 

SAM.  Well,  I'm  not!  Look  at  that  picture  yon 
der.  (Pointing  to  GRANT)  Who  was  he  but  a 
small-town  boy  from  this  State  ?  Look  at  that  one ! 
( HAYES  and  his  cabinet)  Who  was  he  but  another 
small-town  boy  from  out  here?  (Sits  on  footstool 
facing  her,  telling  them  off  on  his  fingers)  Who 
was  James  A.  Garfield,  William  Tecumseh  Sher 
man,  John  Sherman,  William  McKinley,  William 
H.  Taft,  Theodore  Roosevelt (Broken.) 

ELEANOR.  (Crying  out)  Roosevelt  isn't  from 
Ohio!  (Rises  and  crosses  to  L.C. — sits.) 

SAM.  (Unabashed,  rapidly.  Snaps  his  fingers) 
I  know  it.  I  got  him  mixed  in  from  another  oration 


I4  THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN 

I'm  writing.  (Rises  and  goes  c.)  But  I  mean  those 
men  didn't  get  where  they  got  without  a  struggle  and 
/  expect  to  have  a  struggle,  but  I'm  goin'  to  be 
Somebody  in  these  United  States  of  America,  and 
you  bet  nothing  on  earth  is  going  to  stop  me! 
(Pause)  Don't  you  believe  it  ? 

ELEANOR.  (Awed  by  his  intense  belief,  in  spite 
of  herself)  I  almost  do! 

SAM.  (Quickly)  When  I  get  to  be  a  United 
States  Senator  you  won't  think  I'm  conceited. 

ELEANOR.     (Promptly)     I  will,  too! 

SAM.  (Shrewdly)  That  proves  you  think  I  am 
going  to  be  one.  I  knew  you  believed  in  me  as  much 
as  I  do  myself ! 

ELEANOR.     (Rises.    Sharply)     I  do  not! 

SAM  (Vehement  and  oratorical)  Why,  of 
course  you  do!  (Bell  The  door-bell  rings,  but 
SAM  is  so  vehement  that  neither  of  them  notices  the 
ring)  How  could  a  man  of  any  gumption  be  a 
citizen  of  this  country  without  wanting  to  help  run 
it?  (Pointing  his  remarks  with  his  finger)  You 
know  as  well  as  I  do  I'm  goin'  to  be  one  of  the  ones 
that  do!  You  know—  (Broken.) 

ELEANOR.  (Sharply.  She  backs  away  indig 
nantly)  I  don't  anything  of  the  sort ! 

SAM.  Yes,  you  do!  (Bell  rings  again  unno 
ticed.  Bell)  And  you  know  whatever  /  get  to  be 
you'll  be  there  with  me (Broken.) 

ELEANOR.     (Shouting)    I  will  not ! 

SAM.  Yes,  you  will!  I'll  take  you  up  and  up 
with  me,  and  you'll  be  ever  thoughtful  of  my  inter 
ests,  ever  faithful,  ever  ready,  ever (Broken.) 

ELEANOR.  (Crosses  to  mantel  L. — the  couch  be 
tween  them.  Shouting,  all  in  a  breath)  Ever  sick 
at  the  stummick  if  you  talk  like  this  any  more! 

SAM.  (Vehemently)  Nothing  of  the  kind! 
(Leaning  over  back  of  couch.  He  reiterates  this, 
ELEANOR  protesting)  "I  will,  too,  be!"  (Ad  lib; 


THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN  15 

both  talking  at  the  same  -time)  How'd  you  like  to 
be  a  Representative's  wife — a  Congressman's  wife — 

a  Senator's  wife — wife  of  the  Pres (And  the 

door  L.U.  opens — NANCY  standing  upon  the  thresh 
old  for  a  moment;  then  entering.  She  is  the  best- 
looking,  intelligent  girl  in  the  United  States;  about 
twenty-six,  gravely  humorous,  quiet,  and  fearlessly 
cordial,  though  not  bubbling  or  enthusiastic.  She 
wears  a  pretty  summer  gown;  not  noticeably  <c smart" 
in  make,  but  of  a  thought  for  its  becomingness  and^ 
its  summeriness!  and  her  hat  is  broad,  as  against 
strong  sun.  Over  each  arm  she  carries  the  handle  of 
a  large  basket.  One  basket  is  topped  with  a  white 
napkin,  the  other  overfloivs  with  daisies  and  sweet- 
peas.  She  stands  unnoticed  for  a  moment,  looking 
on.  Then  she  speaks  quietly.) 

NANCY.  Won't  you  have  a  strawberry  ?  (Comes 
down  L.  between  them.  The  altercation  cewses, 
ELEANOR  runs  to  her,  happily;  kisses  her) 

ELEANOR.  Cousin  Nancy!  Strawberries  ? 
(Reaches  into  basket — picks  out  a  berry — eats  it.) 

NANCY.  (Placing  basket  on  table)  Here. 
(Takes  a  box  of  strawberries  from  under  the 
flowers)  I  brought  them  in  from  my  farm  to  your 
mother.  Honest,  fat  ones,  aren't  they  ?  (^ELEANOR 
eats,  rapturously)  I  shipped  four  hundred  quarts 
last  week.  (Quietly,  matter-of-fact.  Her  manner 
is  thoughtful.  Goes  to  table  R.C. — puts  baskets 
down.) 

ELEANOR.  (Eating)  You  raised  'em  yourself, 
Nancy  ? 

NANCY.  Well,  I  sat  on  the  porch  and  read  the 
"Farmer's  Annual"  and  George  Meredith — and  my 
farm-hands  did  most  of  the  work;  still  I  think  I 
can  claim  the  strawberries.  (Touching  the  other 
basket.  ELEANOR  follows  her  to  c.  Going  front  of 
couch  and  SAM)  And  these  chickens  and  eggs  and 
honey  and  Alderney  butter,  too,  (Puts  flowers  and 


16  THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN 

box  of  strawberries  on  table)  Your  mother  wrote 
me  to  come  in  I  thought  her  note  seemed  wor 
ried  (Going  to  ELEANOR.  Connecting  the  two 
thoughts)  What  have  you  been  doing,  Eleanor? 

ELEANOR.  Nothing-.  (With  a  look  at  SAM)  Just 
poking.  What  else  does  anybody  do  here?  Some 
day  I  hope  to  see  a  place  with  a  little  more  life  in 
it !  I'm  going  to,  too ! 

NANCY.  (Indicating  baskets)  Better  have  your 
cook  put  all  these  on  ice. 

ELEANOR.  (Hastening  off  R.  with  the  two  bas 
kets)  Oh,  the  goodies ! 

NANCY.     It's  Sammy  Wilson,  isn't  it? 

SAM.     (Gloomy)    Yes,  ma'am. 

NANCY.  (Arranging  flowers  on  table  R.c.J  I 
thought  so,  but  you  all  grow  so  fast,  nowadays — 
and  you've  been  away  to  school — or  college — haven't 
you? 

SAM.     Yes,  ma'am. 

NANCY.  (Crosses  to  him  with  box)  Won't  you 
have  a  strawberry? 

(ELEANOR  has  left  the  box  upon  the  table.) 

SAM.  Yes,  ma'am,  thank  you.  (He  eats  one. 
No  pause.) 

NANCY.  (Crosses  back  to  table)  I  remember 
when  you  were  a  little  boy,  you  used  to  do  declama 
tions  so  well. 

SAM.  (Mouthful  of  berries.  Becoming  inter 
ested  and  earnest)  1  do  yet.  I  think  oratory  is  a 
great  power  for  good.  I  mean  to  employ  it— m  my 
— career.  (Puts  chair  behind  him — leans  back  on 
it.  Career  with  a  little  added  solemnity.) 

NANCY.  (Hands  him  basket  of  berries — he  takes 
a  handful.  Gravely)  I  shall  certainly  come  to  hear 
you. 

ELEANOR.     (Running  in  R.  with  bowl  for  flowers) 


THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN  17 

Mamma  said  to  call  her  soon's  you  got  here.    She's 
over  at  Aunt  Sallie's. 

(Rushes  to  fable,  takes  a  handful  of  strawberries 
with  her.  Turning  to  go,  almost  runs  into  SAM 
— she  steps  around  him  and  exits  L.U.E. — SAM 
starts  to  follow  her — gets  to  door — stops — 
thinks  a  moment — turns.  She  places  two  straw 
berries  in  her  mouth  as  she  goes.  She  sings 
cheerily,  hurrying  off  L.U.  She  has  left  bowl, 
and  NANCY  arranges  flowers.) 

SAM.  (NANCY  goes  to  couch  R.C.  and  sits — ar 
ranges  flowers — picks  up  newspaper  from  table  R.C. 
— spreads  it  on  stool.  Abruptly)  Miss  Price,  I 
know  how  all  this  family  look  up  to  you  and  de 
pend  on  your  advice,  and (Broken.) 

NANCY.  (Takes  bowl  from  table,  puts  it  beside 
her  on  couch.  Amused  and  surprised)  No!  Do 
they? 

SAM.  (Coming  down  c.,  leans  back  against  chair) 
Never  heard  of  any  of  'em  bein'  sick — or  worried 
about  anything1,  they  didn't  some  of  'em  say,  "Send 
for  Cousin  Nancy."  This  whole  cummunity  looks 
up  to  you.  I  guess  it's  because  you're  only  a  woman, 
but  been  makin'  a  farm  pay. 

NANCY.  (Takes  pair  of  folding  scissors  from 
pocket — cuts  string  around  flowers — also  stems — 
and  sorts  them)  I'm  glad  there's  a  reason. 

SAM.  People  thought  you  were  so  strong-  for  es 
says  on  Michelangelo  and  Emerson  at  the  Woman's 
Club  your  farm'd  just  turn  out  to  be  a  fad,  but 
when  you  got  a  bigger  corn  profit  last  year  than 
anybody  in  the  country,  they  chang-ed  their  minds. 
(Going  to  table  R.C.)  Then,  the  way  you  stick  to 
drivin'  those  fast  trotters  to  your  light  surrey  in 
stead  of  runnin'  some  flivver  automobile  has  raised 
you  higher  than  ever  in  this  community. 

NANCY.     (Gravely)    Sam,  are  you  just  practic- 


iS  THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN 

ing  being  a  politician  or  do  you  want  me  to  do  some 
thing  for  you? 

SAM.  (Promptly)  I  certainly  do.  (Leaning 
over  table.) 

NANCY.  (Nodding.  Puts  flowers  in  bowl)  All 
right. 

SAM.  When  ole  skinny  Ben — (Snaps  fingers — 
backs  away  a  step) — I  beg  pardon — I  mean,  when 
your  Uncle  Ben  died  last  year  he  left  Eleanor  quite 
some  money  in  her  own  right,  didn't  he? 

NANCY.     Yes. 

SAM.  Well,  I  believe  that  a  man  ought  to  earn 
as  much  as  his  wife's  got,  before  he  marries  her. 
What  I  want  you  to  do  first — is  to  please  tell  me 
just  how  much  Eleanor's  uncle  left  her,  because  I 
expect  to  earn  that  much  before  we  consider  things 
settled.  A  man  mustn't  be  a  dependent  on  a  woman, 
must  he  ? 

NANCY.     No. 

SAM.     Well,  how  'much  is  Eleanor  worth? 

NANCY.  (Gently)  About  four  hundred  thou 
sand  dollars. 

SAM.  (Long  pause — he  looks  at  her.  Swallow 
ing.  Quietly — leaning  toward  her)  What? 

NANCY.  I  think  it's  a  little  over  four  hundred 
thousand. 

SAM.  (Slowly  goes  down  L. — puts  one  finger  on 
his  right  ear.  Bending  it  down — lets  it  snap  back 
— does  it  again)  Well,  of  course,  that's  goin'  to  take 
me  some  time.  (Recovering  himself — turns  and  goes 
toward  her  to  c.)  I  don't  expect  to  start  right  out 
and  make  that  much  in  a  few  months.  All  I  want  is 
to  know  that  when  I  do  have  it,  there  won't  be  any 
family  opposition. 

NANCY.  (Gently.  Rises — goes  down  R. — around 
piano  to  upper  end.  Puts  bowl  of  flowers  on  lower 
end  of  piano)  I'm  sure  there  wouldn't — by  then. 
Sam! 


THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN  19 

SAM.  You  could  settle  that.  If  you  were  for 
me,  Eleanor's  mother  and  the  whole  family  connec 
tion  would  sure  be  for  me. 

NANCY.  (Coming  down  to  table  R.cJ  It  might 
depend  on  the  kind  of  man  you  turn  out  to  foe — by 
that  time. 

SAM.  (Going  to  her.  Beginning  easily)  Oh,  by 

that  time,  1*11  'be— I'll  be— ah (He  pauses  in 

modesty.) 

NANCY.  (Finishing  for  him)  United  States 
Senator  ? 

SAM.     (Firmly)    Well,  why  not? 

NANCY.  All  right.  (Goes  back  to  couch — picks 
up  papers  and  tidies  up.  Picks  up  small  flowers.) 

SAM.  (Change  of  tone)  See  here,  Miss  Price, 
it's  a  delicate  subject — but  Eleanor's  father  wouldn't 
have  anything  to  say  about  her  marrying,  would 
he? 

NANCY.     (Gravely)    Possibly  he  might. 

SAM.  (Surprised  and  troubled)  I  thought  Mrs. 
Howitt  got  a  divorce  from  him  when  Eleanor  was 
only  three  years  old,  and  he  never  even  saw  her  from 
that  time. 

NANCY.  Eleanor's  of  age  now.  She  might  de 
cide  to  take  her  father's  advice  before  marrying. 
(Puts  a  few  flowers  on  table.) 

SAM.     How  could  she,  when  she  never  sees  him  ? 

NANCY.  He'd  have  a  right  to  see  her,  now  that 
she's  of  age. 

SAM.  (Turns  away  L.  a  few  steps — same  ear 
bus.  Frowning)  I  don't  like  it.  (Turns)  I  be 
lieve  when  a  man's  divorced  and  the  court  gives  a 
child  to  the  mother,  he  ought  to  keep  away. 

NANCY.  (Faintly  amused)  Well,  he  has — for 
over  seventeen  years!  (Goes  up  c. — puts  papers  in 
waste  basket.) 

SAM.  (Crosses  to  chair  L.C.,  puts  one  knee  on  it) 
He  married  again,  didn't  he  ? 


20  THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN 

NANCY.     I've  heard  so. 

SAM.  (Gloomily)  Hm-m!  Oh,  dear!  (Sits) 
That's  a  whole  new  set  of  relatives  I  suppose  would 
have  their  influence  either  for  or  against  me.  (Rises) 
But  anyhow,  you'll  be  for  me. 

NANCY.  (Tucking  flowers  in  her  belt.  Gently — 
coming  down  to  him)  You  mustn't  count  on  it, 
Sam — not  till  you're  a  good  United  States  Senator 
— and  worth  four  hundred  thousand  dollars.  (Her 
manner  with  him  is  not  arch  nor  indulgent  nor 
"kidding."  Her  manner  is  always  free  of  such 
things.  Puts  a  flower  in  his  buttonhole.) 

SAM.  Wait  a  minute.  What  do  you  call  a 
"good"  United  States  Senator, — or  Congressman? 

NANCY.  One  that  cares  more  about  his  country 
than  getting  elected. 

SAM.  Well,  I  mean  if  things  looked  like  I  was 
going-  to  be  one  pretty  certain,  I  wouldn't  believe  in 
waiting  any  longer. 

NANCY.  (Going  back  to  table  R.c.  Estimating 
him)  I  don't  believe  you  would. 

SAM.  All  I  need  is  the  time.  I'm  the  raw  ma 
terial,  ain't  I? 

NANCY.     (Smilingly)     I'm  sure  of  that. 

SAM.  Then  you  might  as  well  be  for  me  right 
now.  You  will  be  some  day;  so  why  wait?  (Pats 
him  on  shoulder.) 

CMRS.  HOWITT  enters  L.U.,  followed  by  ELEANOR.  J 

MRS.  H.  (Goes  to  NANCY  and  kisses  her;  man 
ner  is  anxious  and  hurried.  SAM  watches  ELEANOR, 
who  goes  down  L.,  picks  up  book  from  couch  where 
she  has  left  it — goes  to  lower  end  of  mantel  and  sits. 
SAM  sits  on  arm  of  couch  L. — watching  her — she 
ignores  him.  Begins  to  read)  Nancy !  Thank  you 
for  the  chickens  and  eggs  and  butter  and  honey  and 
strawberries  and  flowers !  You  always  bring  chick- 


THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN  21 

ens  and  eggs  and  butter  and  honey  and  fruit  and 
flowers ! 

NANCY.  (Seriously)  Everybody  lives  too  much 
on  canned  goods  in  the  country  now-a-days. 

MRS.  H.  (Looks  at  ELEANOR.  In  a  hushed  voice) 
"Something's  happened."  Oh,  I  do  need  you! 
(Turning.  Goes  to  table  R.c. — picks  up  book) 
Eleanor,  I  borrowed  this  "Astronomy"  from  old 
Professor  Hobart  of  the  High  School.  I  wish  you'd 
take  it  back  for  me.  (Gives  her  a  book  from  table.) 

( NANCY  goes  R.,  taking  off  hat — puts  it  on  piano — 
by  floivers.) 

ELEANOR.  (Plaintive.  Going  to  her  at  L.c.J  He 
lives  way  at  the  other  side  of  town.  You  don't 
mean (Broken.) 

MRS.  H.  I  wish  you'd  take  it  to  him  right  away, 
dear.  ( ELEANOR  goes  to  door  up  L.  Pauses — then 
gentle — seeing  the  anxious  look  on  SAM'S  face) 
Don't  you  want  to  go  with  her,  Sam? 

SAM.  (Smiles  for  the  first  time.  He  grins)  Yes, 
ma'am.  (Hurrying  up  to  door.) 

ELEANOR.  (Seriously  and  plaintively  objecting) 
I  won't  go  with  him  unless  you  make  him  promise 
to  talk  about  something  beside  himself. 

SAM.  (With  a  gleam  of  intelligence)  I  only  do 
that  because  if  we  talk  about  you  I'd  say  too  much! 

ELEANOR.  (Quickly,  approvingly)  You  have  got 
a  glimmer  of  sense,  sometimes,  Sam! 

MRS.  H.     Run,  children  ! 

SAM.     (Obediently)    Yes,  ma'am. 

(Exit  ELEANOR  and  SAM,  L.U.).     MRS.  HOWTTT  in 
chair  L.c.J 

NANCY.  (Back  of  piano — goes  to  MRS.  HOWITT. 
Seriously)  What  is  it,  Aunt  Ellen? 


22  THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN 

MRS.  H.  (Sinking  into  chair  L.cJ  Eleanor's 
father!  Stanley  Howitt! 

NANCY.  (Very  serious)  He's  written  again? 
('MRS.  HOWITT  nods)  Without  your  answering  his 
other (Broken.) 

MRS.  H.  (In  a  stricken  voice)  He  came  to-day, 
himself. 

NANCY.     He's  in  this  town  now? 

MRS.  H.  (Almost  overcome)  He's — he's  at  the 
hotel. 

NANCY.  (Seriously)  Then  whatever  the  wrong 
he  did  you  in  the  old  days,  Aunt  Ellen,  I  think  it 
will  be  expiated,  if  he  has  to  put  in  any  time  at  the 
National  House!  (Change  of  tone)  You  haven't 
seen  him? 

MRS.  H.  (Crying  out)  No!  I  couldn't!  I  tele 
phoned  to  him  from  sister  Sallie's.  That's  what  I 
went  there  for.  I  told  him  he  could  come  here  and 
someone  would  talk  to  him.  That's  what  I  got 
you  here  for. 

NANCY.     (Crisply)    All  right. 

MRS.  H.  (Helplessly)  You  always  know  what 
to  do. 

NANCY.  (Putting  out  her  hand — MRS.  HOWITT 
takes  it)  What  do  you  want  me  to  do? 

MRS.  H.  (In  a  despairing  appeal)  Nancy,  don't 
you  think  there's  a  chance  we  could  keep  him  from 
seeing  Eleanor  at  all? 

NANCY.  (Puts  her  arm  around  MRS.  HOWITT. 
Decisively)  No.  She's  of  age,  and  you  can't  pre 
vent  it  unless  she  refuses  to  see  him. 

MRS.  H.  (Unhappily)  She  cut  his  picture  out  of 
one  of  the  New  York  fashion  papers!  (With  gen 
tle  bitterness)  For  years  she's  been  thinking  about 
him  more  and  more.  I  know  it ! 

NANCY.  (In  a  business-like  tone)  That  settles 
it  then. 


THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN  23 

MRS.  H.  What?  (Meaning,  "What  does  it  set 
tle?" ) 

NANCY.  If  she's  been  making'  a  romance  of  him, 
the  sooner  you  have  her  see  him  the  better. 

MRS.  H.     (Weakly  protesting)     Oh,  no! 

NANCY.  You've  never  accused  him  of  any  great 
crime  to  the  family,  Aunt  Ellen —  (Broken.) 

MRS.  H.  (Interrupting)  He's  just  weak!  And 
he's  married  again — we  don't  know  what  kind  or 
who (Quick  and  disjointed.) 

NANCY.  Eleanor  will  have  to  work  out  the  truth 
for  herself. 

MRS.  H.     That  frightens  me ! 

NANCY.  He's  of  some  consequence  in  the  world, 
at  least.  I've  seen  his  name (Broken.) 

MRS.  H.     But  that  means  so  little! 

NANCY.     When's  he  coming  to  the  house? 

MRS.  H.  (Hurried  and  troubled.  Rises)  He 
said  he'd  start  right  up  here.  That's  why  I  got 
Eleanor  off  so  quickly. 

NANCY.  (Quickly)  Get  her  back  as  quickly  as 
you  can. 

MRS.  H.  (Appealing)  Oh,  Nancy,  can't  I  keep 
her  from  him? 

NANCY.  (Taking  both  her  hands.  Quickly) 
He's  here  to  see  her,  and  he'll  do  it!  Then  if  she 
finds  out  you've  been  trying  to  prevent  it,  she'll  be 
resentful  at  you. 

MRS.  H.  (Quavering)  But  we  don't  know  what 

he'll  want!  He  might  persuade  her  to  go Oh, 

Nancy,  I'm  frightened!  He'd  fascinate  her — he's 
just  exactly  the  kind  of  man  to  be  so  well- preserved 
he  wouldn't  look  within  twenty  years  of  MY  age! 
That  would  be  just  LIKE  him ! 

NANCY.  He  can't  WIN  her  by  merely  looking 
YOUNG! 

MRS.    H.     Looking    young    APPEALS    to    the 


24  THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN 

young  and  he (In  great  agitation)  You  don't 

know  what  I'm  so  afraid  of! 

NANCY.  (Sharply)  Yes,  I  do.  But  it  can't  be 
helped. 

MRS.  H.  But  we  might (BELL.  Bell  rings 

—she  utters  a  subdued  shriek.  Then  getting  her 
breath— low  tone — going  toward  door  L .)  He'd  just 
have  time  to  get  here.  I  know  it  is. 

NANCY.  (Grasps  her  hand  and  leads  her  R.  "be 
hind  piano)  You  can't  speak  to  him? 

MRS.  H.     (With  horror)     Oh,  no! 

NANCY.  Then  go  out  the  side  way.  My  surrey's 
out  there  and  old  John's  driving.  Jump  in  and  bring 
Eleanor  back.  She  can't  have  gone  more  than  a 
couple  of  squares. 

MRS.  H.  (In  complete  distress)  I'll  do  what 
ever  you  say. 

(Exit  R.     NANCY  comes  down  R.  around  front  of 
couch  and  goes  to  the  door  up  L.  and  opens  it.) 

NANCY.  (Not  as  a  question)  Will  you  come  in, 
please  ? 

enters — a  superior  and  triumphant  youth 
of  twenty-eight;  very  smart,  half-Bostonese 
English,  yet  altogether  a  New  Yorker.  His 
accent  is  Anglicised  heavily.  He  wears  a  smart 
sack  suit,  carries  a  soft  hat  and  wears  gloves.) 

GEORGE.  Ah — this  is  where  Miss  Eleanor  Howitt 
lives  ? 

NANCY.  (Surprised  and  puzzled  bv  GEORGE'S 
youth,  incredulous)  Yes,  she  lives  here. 

GEORGE.  Do  you  mind  telling  her  her  father  is 
here? 

NANCY.  (Slowly  accepting  him  as  HownrJ 
Oh!  Yes,  of  course.  Won't  you  sit  down?  (In 
dicating  chair  L.cJ 


THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN  25 

GEORGE.  (Meaning  "No")  Thanks.  (Coming 
down  L.  front  of  mantel.) 

NANCY.  I  —  I'm  Eleanor's  cousin,  Nancy 
Price. 

GEORGE.  Really  I'm  here,  you  know,  to — ah — 
to (Pause.) 

NANCY.  (Coming  down  to  chair  L.C.J  You'll 
have  only  a  few  moments  to  wait.  The  fastest 
trotters  in  the  country  have  gone  for  Eleanor  and 
she  wasn't  far.  Of  course,  one  can't  g?t  very  far 
in  Centerville! 

GEORGE.  No ;  I  suppose  not.  What  name  was  it 
— Center ?  (Coming  down  a  bit.) 

NANCY.     (Astonished)    Centerville ! 

GEORGE.  (Going  to  her)  Yes,  I  remember. 
That's  the  name  of  this  place,  Centerville.  Ah — 
what  State  is  it  in? 

NANCY.  Good  gracious !  Don't  you  know  ? 
Ohio! 

GEORGE.  Oh,  yes,  of  course.  I  motored  out 
from  New  York,  you  see,  but  I  didn't  hold  the  map. 
I — ah — drove.  When  one's  driving  oneself  one  has 
so  many  things  on  one's  mind — and  your  States 
put  this  way  do  seem  rather  mixed  up.  Centerville 
in  the  State  of  Ohio.  (Turns  away  L.  a  few  steps) 
Yes,  of  course.  Curious  little  place — (Seeing  glass 
case  over  wax  flowers) — such  odd  people ! 

NANCY.  (Drily)  Are  we?  Of  course,  we  don't 
seem  odd  to  us! 

GEORGE.  (Turns  back  again  to  her)  Oh,  very 
worthy !  Quite  so !  I've  only  been  here  a  couple  of 
hours,  you  see !  I  mean :  what  a  strange  life  it  must 
be!  (Turns  L. — around  couch  and  up  L.,  looking 
at  mantel  ornaments.) 

NANCY.  (Thoughtfully)  I  suppose  so.   (Broken.) 

GEORGE.  Funny  old  natives  and  all  that,  I  dare 
say. 

NANCY.     (A  little  wistfully)     We're  all  natives 


26  THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN 

here.  When  the  apple  trees  are  in  bloom  in  every 
body's  yard,  why,  it's  very — it's  very  pleasant. 

GEORGE.  (Going  down  L. — looks  at  flowers  in 
case  again.  Drily)  I  see.  Depend  on  apple- 
trees  blossomin'  for  entertainment !  Must  be  a  lively 
place  in  autumn ! 

NANCY.  (Smiling  faintly)  Oh,  well — we  have 
our  thoughts — sometimes  they  blossom,  too! 

GEORGE.  (Somewhat  bored,  crossing  R. — looking 
at  engravings  on  wall)  Oh,  no  doubt !  They'd  have 
plenty  of  time  to — out  here  so  far  away  from  things, 
I  dare  say!  However,  I  saw  several  Fords  on  the 
principal  street,  going  quite  rapidly.  (Stops  extreme 
R. — turns  to  her)  And  there  must  have  been  at  least 
nine  men  in  their  shirt-sleeves  sitting  in  chairs 
in  front  of  the  hotel  gesturing — oh,  quite 
noisy 

NANCY.  (Laughs.  Coming  c.  front  of  chair) 
Yes,  they  are,  lately.  They're  talking  about  the  pros 
pect  of  rousing  the  country  if  it  has  to  be  roused 
again,  as  it  was  in  sixty-one.  We'll  find  the  place 
lively  enough  if  it  comes  to  that. 

GEORGE.  (At  extreme  R.)  No  doubt — shorely. 
(Turns  away — looks  up  at  picture  of  Grant.) 

NANCY,  (Repeating  it — half  to  herself)  Shore 
ly — ?  (Noting  his  pronunciation;  she  is  puzzled  and 
the  least  bit  nettled,  but  speaks  coolly)  I  suppose 
our  pronunciation  seems  odd  to  you,  too? 

NANCY.  (Noting^  his  pronunciation;  she  is  pus- 
sled  and  the  least  bit  nettled,  but  speaks  coolly)  I 
suppose  our  pronunciation  seems  odd  to  you, 
too? 

GEORGE.  (Turning  back  again  to  her)  It  is 
rather  quaint  to  hear  a  dialect  with  so  much  of  the 
letter  "R."  (Pronounces  it  "ah.") 

NANCY.  (Quietly)  Yes.  We  haven't  murdered 
it. 

GEORGE.     I  beg  your  pardon. 


THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN  27 

NANCY.  We  believe  in  the  whole  alphabet,  just 
as  the  French  and  Italians  do. 

GEORGE.  (Faintly  amused;  polite  tone)  I  sup 
pose  you  have  quite  a  lot  of  French  and  Italian 
society. 

NANCY.  (Crisply)  Yes,  I  have  some  working 
for  me  on  my  farm.  (Sits  chair  L.C .) 

GEORGE.  (Blankly)  Ah — you  were  alluding-  to 
local  superiority  in  the  matter  of  the  letter  "R,"  I 
believe. 

NANCY.  When  you*  talk  over  the  telephone,  don't 
you  find  it  easier  to  understand  a  person  who  hasn't 
lost  his  "R's"?  Yet  thousands  of  people  are  able 
to  offer  a  missing  "R"  as  the  only  sign  of  their 
culture. 

GEORGE.  (Bored.  Not  noticing  her — he  goes  up 
R. — around  back  of  piano  to  window  R.cJ  Stremely 
interestin'  all  this  to  me !  Always  heard  people  out 
this  way  great  on  writing  essays  for  "literary  clubs" 
or  reading  something  "deep"  and  making  political 
orations.  Hadn't  got  over  Daniel  Webster  yet! 

NANCY.  (Gently)  Perhaps  it's  only  because 
we're  so  eager  to  be  part  of  the  world. 

GEORGE.  (Crossing  back  of  her  chair — comes 
down  L.  of  her — back  against  couch  L.  Superior  and 
amused,  yet  bored)  The  "world"  ?  Well,  that  does 
seem  rather  a  trip — from  here  ? 

NANCY.  (With  feeling)  You  mean  we're  pro 
vincial — and  you're  right — we  are.  No,  we  haven't 
got  over  Daniel  Webster  yet !  You  see,  we  can  only 
write  club  essays  about  the  things  you  have  and  do. 
We  have  so  little  and  you  have  everything.  You 
have  living  opera  and  we  have  opera  sung  by  a 
needle!  You  have  picture  galleries — and  we  have 
picture  shows! 

GEORGE.  Rather  think  you  have  the  advantage 
there ! 

NANCY.     Ah!     But  the  shops!     We  know  the 


28  THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN 

names  of  them,  even  though  we've  never  seen  them 
— and  we  know  that  great  skyline  of  yours  striking 
up  from  the  river — so  high  that  clouds  break  against 
it. 

GEORGE.  (Goes  L.  around  couch  and  up — back 
to  mantel,  Vaguely  surprised  and  superior)  Oh, 
yes,  very  much  so  and  so  forth.  But  we  rather  take 
our  skyline  as  a  matter-of-course.  One  doesn't 
notice  it  often,  you  see 

NANCY.  (Rises — steps  toward  him.  Mastering 
a  sudden  indignation  with  him)  If  you  should  per 
suade  Eleanor  to  go  with  you,  I  hope  you  won't  keep 
her  from  "noticing  it !" 

GEORGE.  (Scene  played  over  back  of  couch  L.) 
I'm  sure  /  don't  care  what  she  notices ! 

NANCY.     (Astonished)     You  don't? 

GEORGE.  Why  should  I?  She  may  be  very 
charming  but  as  I've  never  'seen  the  young  woman 
in  my  life  I  don't  know  why  I (Broken.) 

NANCY.  (Astonished)  Why,  you  saw  her  when 
she  was  a  baby! 

GEORGE.  I  think  it  impossible:  she  must  have 
been  a  baby  when  I  was  a  boy  in  prep,  school,  and 
nobody  brings  babies  to  show  'em  to  prep,  school 
boys. 

NANCY.  (Exclaiming.  Backs  away — sits  in  chair 
L.c.J  I  thought  you  were  too  well-preserved  to  be 
Aunt  Ellen's  husband! 

GEORGE.  "Well-preserved !"  What  a  remarkable 
remark ! 

NANCY.  (With  decision,  assuringly)  You're  not 
Mr.  Howitt !  (Stares  at  him  angrily.) 

GEORGE.  Certainly  not!  I  was  going  to  take  a 
motor  trip:  didn't  care  where;  and  he  said:  Why 
not  motor  him  out  West?  He's  sitting  out  in  the 
car  in  front.  Naturally  he  didn^t  want  any  awk 
ward  encounters  in  this  house,  so  he  sent  me  in  to 
see 


THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN  29 

NANCY.  (Staggered)  "Sent"  you?  Are  you  his 
chauffeur? 

GEORGE.  (Turns  away — faces  front — then  back 
to  her.  Quickly  and  compassionately,  though  stung) 
No.  No,  I'm  not  his  chauffeur.  It's  my  car. 
There's  a  chauffeur  in  it.  too  He  sits  behind  when 
I  drive.  I'm  an  acquaintance  of  Hewitt's.  I  play 
golf  and  bridge  with  Howitt,  but  I'm  not  Howitt  and 
I'm  not  even  his  chauffeur 

NANCY.  (Mortified  and  nettled  Rises — goes  n.) 
I  thought  you  were  Eleanor's  father!  That's  why  I 
talked  to  you  about — East  and  West ! 

GEORGE.  (Going  down  extreme  L.  Lightly) 
Well,  one  does  expect  anything  in  these  out-of-the- 
way  places. 

NANCY.  (Turns  to  him.  Not  changing  her  at 
titude)  Oh! 

GEORGE.  (Crossing  to  c.)  All  the  same,  poor  old 

Howitt  is  waiting  out  there  in  the  sun 

(Broken.) 

MRS.  H.  (Off*.)  Nancy?  (She  enters  R.  She 
has  been  weeping)  Nancy 

NANCY.  (Grimly,  going  to  MRS.  HOWITTJ  This 
is  someone  who  came  with  Mr.  Howitt. 

( GEORGE  turns  away — goes  up  L.C. — looks  out  of 
window — then  down  L.cJ 

MRS.  H.  He  and  Eleanor  are  sitting  in  an  auto 
mobile  in  front,  talking.  When  I  brought  her,  she 
saw  him — she  knew  him  from  his  picture — and  she 
ran  to  him!  (Almost  sobs)  They'd  better  come  in 
instead  of  sitting  out  there,  If  this  is  a  friend  of  his 
would  you  ask  him  to  ask  them  to  come  in?  (Turns 
back  to  door  R.  Stands  about  to  exit  R.) 

NANCY.     (Dryly,  after  a  short  pause,  staring  at 
GEORGE J     Be  kind  enough  to  do  what  she  says. 
'   GEORGE.     (Starting)    Oh,  I  say! 


30  THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN 

NANCY.  (Going  toward  him  to  c.  Crisply)  One 
must  expect  "anything  in  these  out-of-the-way 
places !" 

GEORGE.  (Coldly)  Rath-^rr.  (Opens  door  L., 
calling)  I  say,  Howitt! 

HOWITT.     (In  distance)    "Yes." 

GEORGE.  The  people  of  the  house  say  you're  to 
come  in.  (Steps  out,  NANCY  sending  a  fiery  glance 
after  him.  He  calls  off)  Yes,  it's  quite  all  right ! 
Quite  oh! 

NANCY.  (With  compressed  lips,  crosses  rapidly 
to  MRS.  HOWITT  J  Come  on,  Aunt  Ellen!  (Ex 
eunt  R.) 

GEORGE.  (Stepping  in  ~L.)  Yes.  Quite !  (Speaks 
to  off  L.J  The  young  woman's  gone,  too.  Said  she 
ran  a  farm,  and  I  should  think  so !  (Then  as  ELEA 
NOR  quickly  enters,  followed  by  HOWITT  to  c.)  I'll 
be  off.  My  turn  to  sit  in  the  car.  (Exits  R.  closing 
door  after  him.) 

('ELEANOR  is  excited  and  flushed.  She  turns  to 
HOWITT  c.  and  offers  both  her  hands.  He 
takes  them,  smiling.  He  is  a  handsome  man  of 
fifty;  very  smart,  wears  a  grayish  sack  suit', 
soft  straw  hat;  gray  silk  gloves.  HOWITT  puts 
hat  on  windowseat  up  L.cJ 

ELEANOR.  ("ELEANOR  and  HOWITT  rewtain  up  c.) 
I  didn't  think  I'd  be — embarrassed — when  I  met  you 
—but  I  guess  I  was !  (He  steps  back  from  her  td 
look  at  her.) 

HOWITT.  You're — you're  just  as  fetching  as — 
as  you  were  when  you  were  three  years  old !  I've 
kept  your  picture  on  my  desk ! 

ELEANOR.     How  dear! 

HOWITT.     You're  charming! 

ELEANOR.  (Flashing  a  happy  look  up,  then  shyly 
down  again)  Oh,  no ! 


THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN  31 

HOWITT.  (With  husky  enthusiasm)  Just  give 
you  a  month  or  two  with  the  right  crowd  and  let 
Maud  have  a  word  to  say  about  your  clothes !  Maud 
knows (Broken.) 

ELEANOR.  (Happy  and  reassured)  Who's  Maud, 
Papa? 

HOWITT.  (Going  down  L.C.  a  bit)  "Papa!"  By 
George,  how  natural  that  conies ! 

ELEANOR.  (Going  down  to  c.)  Who's  Maud, 
Papa — dear  ? 

HOWITT.  (Laughing)  Maud's  my  wife — your 
stepmother,  dear. 

ELEANOR.  (Going  down  R.C.  Naively,  trustfully 
questioning)  But  I  wouldn't  like  her. 

HOWITT.  (Going  to  her,  taking  her  hands. 
Laughing)  Of  course  you  will.  (Huskily)  You 
have  thought  about  me — sometimes — all  these  years 
you  were  growing  up? 

ELEANOR.     Have  If 

HOWITT.  (Dropping  her  hands.  Biting  his  Up) 
I  dare  say  you  weren't  told  much  about  me.  Pleas 
ant  things,  that  is 

ELEANOR.  (Quickly)  Oh,  nothing  at  all,  Papa. 
Mamma  never (Broken.) 

HOWITT.  Your  mother  told  you  why  she 

(Broken.) 

ELEANOR.  (With  more  emphasis)  Nothing  at 
all,  Papa. 

HOWITT.  Eleanor,  I  don't  blame  anybody  for 
what  happened.  The  truth  is  your  mother  and  I 
simply  didn't  speak  the  same  language:  that's  all 
there  was  to  it.  We  were  not  the  same  tribe ! 

ELEANOR.  (Eagerly)  I  understand.  I  really 
do — already — Papa ! 

HOWITT.     (Fondly)     How? 

ELEANOR.  Oh,  you're  a  man  of  the  world,  Papa, 
just  as  I  dreamed  you'd  be.  7  knew! 

HOWITT.     Eleanor,    you're    going    to    see    the 


32  THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN 

"world!"  Won't  you  like  meeting  some  Real  Peo 
ple  away  from  this  stuffy  little  backwoods  prov 
ince (Broken.) 

ELEANOR.  (Surprised,  but  pleased)  Is  it  back 
woods,  Papa?  They  all  think  they're  up-to- 
date!  (A  little  defensively)  We've  got  a  new 

library  and  the  State  Biological  Laboratory 

(Broken.) 

HOWITT.  She's  had  you  for  seventeen  years. 
Are  you  coming  with  me? 

ELEANOR.     But  I'm  such  a  country  jay ! 

HOWITT.  (Tilts  up  her  chin — smiles  at  her  hap 
pily)  You  darling! 

ELEANOR.  (Taking  his  hand  in  both  of  hers) 
Papa!  You  know  what  I've  always  wanted?  To 
spend  a  summer  at  the  seashore — not  a  boarding- 
house  or  a  hotel — but  a  cottage — a  real  grand  cot 
tage — a — a — villa !  You  know,  with  pictures  of  me 
in  the  papers  holding  a  dog — or  looking  at  horses 
jumping— like  the  one  I  saw  of  you ! 

HOWITT.  (Laughing,  crosses  her  to  couch  R.J 
Oh,  Maud  and  I  don't  quite  have  villas,  dear.  We 
were  house-partying  then. 

ELEANOR.  (Goes  to  chair  L.C.  and  sits.  Excit 
edly)  Oh,  Papa  !  Couldn't  you  and  I  have  a  house- 
party  like  that  ? 

HOWITT.  (Going  to  her)  Dear,  my  friends  are 
the  ^  "Right  Sort,"  but  financially  I'm  only  a  very 
junior  partner  in  a  broker's  firm. 

ELEANOR.  (Gaily)  But  look  at  all  the  money 
I've  got  from  good  old  Uncle  Ben's  will !  It's  every 
bit  my  own,  but  mamma's  always  talking  about  in 
vesting — investing1  even  the  income  from  it.  If  I'm 
with  you,  you'll  let  me  do  whatever  I  like  with  it, 
won't  you?  (Affirmative.) 

HOWITT.  Yes,— I  will.  I've  ahvays  believed 
money  was  meant  to  enjoy.  Eleanor,  I  hate  hoard 
ing  and  this  early  settler  over-thriftiness  one  finds 


THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN  33 

out  here.  I  hate  puritanism,  provincialism  and  pio 
neers  ! 

ELEANOR.  (Rises  and  goes  to  him.  Gleefully) 
So  do  I ! 

HOWITT.  (Taking  her  hands)  By  Jove!  We 
are  sympathetic — aren't  we?  When  can  you  be 
ready  to  start  ? 

ELEANOR.  (Breathlessly  serious)  Oh,  do  you 
really  want  me? 

HOWITT.  (Beaming)  Indeed  I  do!  Can  you 
start  by  evening-?  My  friend  that  motored  me  out 
here  says  he'll  die  if  he  can't  be  moving-  back  East 
again !  Won't  it  be  a  lovely  trip  for  us  ?  We  can 
start  before  dusk — it'll  be  moonlight — and  reach 
Cleveland  by  midnight — and 

ELEANOR.     (Delighted  and  stunned)    Oh ! 

HOWITT.     Why  not? 

ELEANOR.  (With  a  sudden  happy  idea)  Papa! 
If  we  could  get  Cousin  Nancy  on  our  side,  she'd 
make  it  all  smooth  with  Mamma.  We  depend  so 
on  Nancy. 

HOWITT.     (Frowning  a  little)    Why? 

ELEANOR.  (Brightly)  Oh,  we  always  have. 
Papa !  After  we've  got  our  "villa"  and  our  house- 
party,  we'll  ask  her!  Won't  we  make  g-ood  old 
Nancy  open  her  eyes?  She's  lovely,  Papa!  She's 
a  farmer 

HOWITT.  Dear,  that's  just  what  I've  come  for— 
to  get  you  away  from  the  farmers.  Will  you  be 
ready  to  go  to-night ?  (Taking  her  hands.) 

ELEANOR.  (Excited)  Let's  call  Cousin  Nancy! 
It  all  depends  on  whether  she'll  help  us  with 

Mamma (Runs  to  R.E.,  calling)  Nancy! 

Cousin  Nancy!  Nancy f  HOWITT  goes  L.  to 

mantel — looks  at  clock — compares  lime  with  his 
watch,  as  though  anxious  to  be  gone.  Then  comes 
down  L.  Turns  back  to  R.cJ  She's  coming- 

NANCY.     (Entering  R.E.,  gravely  to  R.cJ    Yes  ? 


34  THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN 

ELEANOR.  This  is  Nancy.  (Ho  WITT  bows. 
ELEANOR  puts  arms  around  her  waist)  Nancy, 
papa  wants  me  to  go  with  him!  To  motor 

NANCY.  Perhaps  you  haven't  had  much  time  to 
think (Broken.) 

ELEANOR.  (Quickly,  rather  sharply)  I  haven't? 
I've  been  thinking  of  this  very  thing  for  years! 
(Runs  to  HOWITT — drags  him  by  arm  to  L.C.)  Papa ! 
Talk  to  her ! 

HOWITT.  I  scarcely  see  the  need  of  talking  to 
anyone  but  you. 

ELEANOR.  (Impetuously)  No — make  her  see, 
so  that  she'll—  (Broken.) 

HOWITT.  (Turning  to  NANCY)  Surely  anyone 
would  understand  the  enormous  advantage  for  Elea 
nor.  Could  anyone  question  that  it's  time  for  her 

to  go  out  into  a  larger  and  brighter  life 

(Broken.) 

NANCY.  (Quickly,  troubled  but  not  skeptical) 
You  could  give  her  a  larger  and  brighter  life. 

HOWITT.  (Going  on)  Naturally  she'd  meet  my 
friends.  She'd  learn  something  of  cosmopolitan 
life ;  meet  people  of  some  distinction (Broken.) 

NANCY.  (Agreeing,  with  feeling)  Ah,  yes ;  that 
"would  be  worth  while !  To  meet  people  of  real  dis 
tinction;  the  men  and  women  of  art  and  letters! 

ELEANOR.  (Excitedly)  Well,  do  you  want  me 
to  be  kept  out  of  that?  (Goes  to  her  pleadingly) 
And  I'm  going  to  meet  'em,  too !  Nancy !  (Puts 
arms  around  her  waist)  He's  promised  me  we'll 
have  a  house-party  in  a — a  villa!  Nancy,  I'll  send 
you  photographs  of  it  and  I'll  invite (Broken.) 

NANCY.  (Thoughtfully)  How  soon  do  you 

(Broken.) 

ELEANOR.  He  wants  me  to  go  right  away!  He 
has  to — because  his  friend  can't  stand— 

NANCY.  (Quickly)  You  couldn't.  You  haven't 
got  clothes  for (Broken.) 


THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN  35 

HOWITT.  (A  little  peremptorily)  I  think  that 
needn't  trouble  us.  All  she  needs  is  a  traveling 
dress.  She  will  have  advice  from  my — ah — advice 
in  New  York  about  ordering  gowns. 

NANCY.     Her  mother (Broken.) 

HOWITT.  My  dear  Miss  Price.  The  decision 
rests  entirely  with  Eleanor  herself.  (Pause — fac 
ing  front.) 

ELEANOR.  (Determinedly)  And  I'm  going, 
Nancy.  fHowirr,  relieved,  goes  up  L.C. — gets  hat 
from  windowseat  and  comes  down  L.C.  a  few  steps. 
ELEANOR  going  to  NANCY )  It's  glorious  ;  we're  go 
ing  in  papa's  friend's  motor—  (Broken.) 

NANCY.  (Decisively,  crosses  to  HOWITT — ELEA 
NOR  follows  her)  Will  you  go  to  the  car  in  front 
and  wait,  Mr.  Howitt? 

HOWITT.  (Stiffly,  annoyed)  What  shall  I  wait 
far? 

NANCY.  ("ELEANOR  starts  to  go  to  him — NANCY 
stops  her)  I'll  send  you  word 

HOWITT.  (Starting  to  go,  turning  quickly  to 
ELEANOR,)  Eleanor,  you're  coming  away  with  me, 
aren't  you  ?  (Holds  out  his  hands  to  her— fearing 
she  may  decide  not  to  go.) 

ELEANOR.  (Determinedly,  taking  his  hands) 
Yes,  I  am ! 

HOWITT.  Then  I'll  wait (He  kisses  her 

quickly,  nods  gravely  to  NANCY  and  exits  L.uJ 

(NANCY  goes  to  back  of  chair  L.C.) 

ELEANOR.  (Running  to  door  after  him.  At 
door)  Isn't  he  fascinating  ?  (A  few  steps  to  upper 
end  of  couch  L.j  And  he's  my  father!  (Rushing 
to  NANCY  and  embracing  her.  Kneels  on  chair  L.C  .1 
Don't  you  love  him  ? 

(MRS.   HOWITT,   deeply   troubled,   enters  R.,   over 
hearing.) 


36  THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN 

NANCY.     (Sadly)    He  seems  very  nice. 

MRS.  H.  (Unhappily)  I  knew  what  he  came 
for! 

ELEANOR.  (Gets  down  from  chair — faces  front 
resolutely)  Well,  I'm  going,  Mamma! 

MRS.  H.  (Going  to  her  to  c.  Puts  arms  around 
her)  I  can't  let  you !  I  can't ! 

ELEANOR.  (Firmly)  I  promised  him.  (NANCY 
moves  away  L.) 

MRS.  H.     (Weeping)    No,  no! 

ELEANOR.  (Firmly)  I  made  up  my  mind  when 
I  first  heard  he  was  coming. 

MRS.  H.     You  want  to  leave  me? 

ELEANOR.  No — but  I  can't  be  with  you  both 
at  the  same  time — you  settled  that,  Mamma, 

long  ago (  NANCY  goes  to  mantel  L. 

Broken.) 

MRS.  H.  (Stabbed,  turns  away — sits  on  couch  R.) 
Oh! 

ELEANOR.  (Vehemently)  I  do  want  to  get  away 
from  this  miserable  little  dull  old  town  and  see  a 
little  of  what  Real  Life  is! 

MRS.  H.  (Controlling  herself)  The  real  life  is 
the  spiritual  life. 

ELEANOR.  (Sharply — steps  to  her)  Well,  I  want 
the  other  kind  first.  I  w'ant  to  meet  a  few  people 
of  some  "real  distinction"  before  I  die.  Cousin 
Nancy  couldn't  help  being  impressed  herself  with 
what  papa  said  about  that!  (A  little  theatrically. 
Taking  c.)  Oh,  I  want  to  live! 

NANCY.  (At  mantel.  Thoughtfully  breaking 
her  thoughtful  silence)  You  got  that  out  of  a  maga 
zine,  Eleanor.  (Goes  R.  up  stage.) 

ELEANOR.  (Defiantly)  What  if  I  did?  That's 
the  only  place  I  can  get  life  in  this  provincial  little 
hole,  isn't  it — magazines  and  movie  shows?  (Turns 
away  L.) 

MRS.  H.     (Brokenly)    I  don't  know  what  to  do ! 


THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN  37 

NANCY.  (Goes  to  her — back  of  table  R.c.j  What 
can  you  do?  (Meaning  it's  settled.) 

(MRS.  HOWITT  cries  out  faintly  in  pain  and  ELEANOR 
rushes  to  her — kneels  at  her  feet — arms  around 
her.) 

ELEANOR.  Mamma!  I  can't  hurt  you  so!  If 
it's  too  hard  for  you  I — I'll  give  up !  I'll  stay — I'll 
stay  even  if  the  dullness  of  this  dry  old  place  does 
kill  me !  If  I've  got  to  stand  it,  rather  than  trouble 
you>  I — oh — couldn't  you  'be  a  little  braver  and  let 
me  go? 

(MRS.  HOWITT  looks  to  NANCY  for  help.) 

NANCY.    You  see? 

MRS.  H.  (Looking  at  her  in  fright)  You  mean 
I've  got  to (Broken.) 

NANCY.  I  never  knew  Eleanor  to  give  anything 
up  yet — once  she'd  set  her  mind  on  it — not  till  she'd 
tried  it. 

ELEANOR.     (Hotly)    That  isn't  fair ! 

NANCY.  (Patting  ELEANOR'S  shoulder.  Busi 
ness-like)  It's  an  admirable  quality.  There's  only 
one  thing  for  you  to  do,  Aunt  Ellen,  and  that's  to 
get  some  things  packed  for  her.  (Goes  to  couch  L. — 
leans  back  on  it.) 

ELEANOR.  (Happily)  We've  got  all  afternoon 
to 

MRS.  H.     (Moaning)    I  can't  bear  it ! 

NANCY.    Yes,  you  can. 

ELEANOR.  Of  course,  I'll  come  back — but 

(Broken.) 

MRS.  H.  (Despairingly  to  NANCY J  You  hear 
her? 

NANCY.  (Rapidly)  Never  mind  what  she  says. 
(Change  of  tone.  Spiritedly)  At  least  she's  right 


38  THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN 

about  one  thing.  It's  time  she  did  see  something 
of  life  and  other  kinds  of  people.  (ELEANOR,  en 
couraged,  straightens  up)  I  know  that  because  / 
never  have!  We  don't  want  her  settling-  down  here 
to  be  an  old  maid — like  me — because  all  the  boys 
that  amounted  to  anything,  or  were  fit  to  marry — 
went  out  to  bigger  towns  where  there  was  something 
worth  doing — and  left  us  behind  them!  (Goes  to 
table  R.cJ  Let  her  go,  Aunt  Ellen;  let  her  go  and 
see  what  a  larger  life  and  a  wider  culture  than  ours 
is.  If  you  don't — 'well,  all  I  see  for  her  is — Sammy 
WILSON!  (Goes  L.  to  mantel — up  L.  around 
couch.) 

ELEANOR.  (Determinedly,  springing  up)  I'm  go 
ing  to  pack !  (Rushes  out  R.J 

MRS.  H.  (Tearfully)  Why  shouldn't  she  marry 
Sam  Wilson — after  a  few  years? 

NANCY.  "After  a  few  years!"  (Crosses  to  c.) 
Why,  Sam — means  to  marry  her  after  a  few 
months.  He's  "the  raw  material"  for  a  United 
States  Senator  and  thinks  he  almost  is  one.  Upon 
my  soul,  if  you  don't  get  her  away,  I  believe  that 
darn  boy  would  walk  off  with  her!  She  wouldn't 
see  anything  else  to  do.  (Goes  to  L.  of  table.) 

MRS.  H.  (Rapidly)  I'm  helpless!  I  couldn't 
go  to  her  when  she's  with  her  father ;  Nancy  (Rises 
— goes  to  NANCYJ,  you're  responsible  for  this — 
you're  responsible  for  her (Broken.) 

NANCY.     (Quickly)     I  accept  the  responsibility. 

MRS.  H.  (Weeping  softly)  I  knew  it  was — 
coming — but  now  it's  come — and  so  suddenly 

NANCY.  (Puts  arm  around  her)  We'll  only 
think  of  what  a  grand  trip  she's  getting!  It's  all 
right,  Aunt  Ellen,  we'll  be  gay  over  it. 

WARNING  CURTAIN 
fSAM's  voice  is  heard  outside,  calling.) 


THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN  39 

SAM.  (Off,  plaintively)  Oh,  Eleanor!  Eleanor! 
Aren't  you  coming  out? 

NANCY.  (Shakes  her  head,  half -smilingly,  half- 
ruefully)  No,  Sammy  boy!  No  more! 

MRS.  H.  (Brokenly)  But  think.  Her  father 
might  get  Eleanor  to  do  such  foolish  things.  If  I 
ask  you  to,  you've  got  to  promise  me  you'll  go  to 
save  her 

NANCY.  (Shaking  her  head)  I?  There  won't 
be  any  need,  dear,  and  I  couldn't  leave  my  farm. 

MRS.  H.  He  might  want  her  to  marry  one  of  his 
friends — like  that  foolish  young  man  that's  with 
him. 

NANCY.  (Crying  out  in  derision)  Never!  If 
she  showed  any  signs  of  losing  her  mind  so  far  as 
that 

(Broken  by  ring  of  door-bell.  BELL.  NANCY 
strides  rapidly  and  decisively  to  the  door  and 
opens  it.  GEORGE  in  doorway.) 

GEORGE.  ( Fast  and  loud  and  querulous)  Do  you 
mind?  Howitt  says  he's  expecting  a  word  of  some 
sort — we're  sitting  out  there — and  it's  rather  broil 
ing,  you  know — and  there's  a  little  neighbor  boy 
keeps  yowling  "El-ea-nor !"  Couldn't  something  be 
done?  ( GEORGE  does  riot  come  down.  He  remains 
in  the  doorway.) 

NANCY.  (Crisply)  Yes— you  needn't  wait  any 
longer. 

GEORGE.     (Protesting)    Oh,  I  say! 

NANCY.  (Continuing)  Eleanor  will  be  at  the 
hotel  by  5  o'clock.  Run  and  tell  Mr.  Howitt. 

GEORGE.     "Run?" 

NANCY.     Yes. 

GEORGE.  Oh,  I  do  say !  (Spluttering  with  wrath 
and  amazement)  Oh — good  Lord!  (Exits  R.) 

MRS.  H.     (Going  toward  her)     Oh,  Nancy,  if 


40  THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN 

Eleanor  ever  did  lose  her  mind  enough  to  think  of 
marrying  a  young1  man  like  that! 

NANCY.  (Coming  down  c.  Vehemently)  I'd 
go!!  If  she  got  that  bad  I'd  go  and  bring  her  back 
— ( SAM'S  voice  heard  calling  ELEANOR  off) — even 
to  Sammy  Wilson! 

(She  goes  to  MRS.  HOWITT  and  puts  her  arm  about 
her.  SAM'S  voice  is  heard  pathetically  calling 
"ELEANOR"  as  the  act  drop  falls.) 

(Playing  time — 37  minutes.) 
MEDIUM  CURTAIN 


ACT  II 

SCENE:  August.  The  terrace,  just  outside  a  hand 
some  and  summery-looking  country  house.  Not 
a  Westchester  country  house,  but  a  seashore 
cottage,  distinctly  a  house  occupied  only  during 
the  summer,  meant  for  summer  and  expressing 
summer.  This  house  is  of  smooth  stucco,  not 
cold  white — a  warm,  creamy  white.  It  runs 
across  at  back,  but  not  so  far  back  as  not  to  per 
mit  of  its  having  considerable  depth.  It  runs 
from  extreme  L.  three-fourths  of  the  way  to 
extreme  R.  set  square,  being  continued  to  ex 
treme  R.  by  a  hedge;  a  wicket  gate  up  R. 

Three  wings.  The  warm,  blue  sky  is  seen 
over  the  house.  There  are  shrubberies  at  back, 
and  shrubberies  running  out  somewhat  from 
three  wings,  but  up  of  them.  A  few  feet  down 
from  house  R.  and  L.  low  terrace  walls,  same 
material  as  house,  panelled.  Each  is  capped  at 
its  extremity  by  a  very  large,  white  bowl  over 
flowing  with  pink  hydrangeas  in  blossom.  In 
the  aperture  between  the  two  ends  of  these 
walls  is  seen  the  large  French  window,  with  fan 
— light  transom  and  scalloped  curtains — the  lat 
ter  of  silk,  and  pulled  up  higher  than  a  tall  man's 
head.  This  is  the  center  entrance  and  the  only 
practicable  entrance  to  the  interior  of  the  house. 
From  the  base  of  the  window  the  terrace,  about 
twenty  inches  high,  extends  doivn  stage  as  far 
as  the  terrace  wall,  where  it  descends  by  two 
steps,  with  zvidth  of  the  gap  between  the  ter- 
41 


42  THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN 

race  walls,  to  the  level  of  the  stage.  Two  other 
French  windows,  similar  to  C.EV  are  seen  in  the 
wall  of  the  house,  one  upon  each  side  of  C.E. 
These,  however,  are  not  practicable.  Across  the 
full  width  of  the  house,  above  the  tops  of  the- 
three  windows,  is  stretched  a  handsome  awning 
of  very  broad  green  and  white  stripes,  R.  and  L. 
of  the  terrace  walls,  curving  obliquely  to  wings, 
green  lawn  is  seen.  The  base  of  each  terrace 
wall  is  masked,  by  a  narrow  and  regular  strip  of 
geranium  bed.  The  whole  effect  is  extremely 
cheerful,  sunshiny,  suggestive  of  the  seashore, 
of  summer  and  of  gaiety  and  fashion.  There 
is  even  a  brilliant  and  light  Frenchness  about 
it.  There  is  a  glimpse  of  wicker  furniture  and 
chintz  caught  through  C.E.,  is  a  small,  round 
wicker  porch-table,  enameled  in  the  same  tint. 
A  similar  chair  to  L.  of  C.E.  on  terrace.  Upon 
the  steps  are  four  or  five  large  sofa-cushions, 
covered  with  chintz  to  match  that  in  the  interior 
of  the  house,  which  have  been  brought  out  and 
abandoned. 

Inside  the  house  a  victrola  is  playing  L.  loudly, 
a  very  recent  and  lively  dance-tune.  ELEANOR, 
charmingly  and  smartly  dressed,  is  dancing  on 
the  lawn  with  CYRIL  KINNEY,  a  boy  of  twenty  - 
two.  He  is  good-looking,  "well-bred"  in  ap 
pearance;  wears  a  rather  gay  tie,  a  Norfolk 
coat,  white  trousers  and  whitc-and-black  shoes; 
in  everything  very  "smart."  He  is  showing 
ELEANOR  a  new  step;  and  they  laugh  and  talk  as 
they  dance.  STANLEY  HOWITT,  wearing  a  sum 
mer  country  suit,  stands  on  terrace  up  L.,  talk 
ing  to  two  ladies.  One  of  these,  MRS.  KINNEY, 
sits  upon  the  terrace  railing,  her  hands  clasped 
about  her  ankle.  She  is  in  riding  clothes;  black 
straw  hat,  coat,  breeches  and  boots.  The  other, 
ATHALIE  WAINWRIGHT,  stands  beside  the  ter- 


THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN  43 

race  railing,  upon  the  ground,  one  arm  upon  the 
railing ;  she  is  languidly  joining  the  conversa 
tion  of  MRS.  KINNEY  and  HOWITT.  She  wears 
a  white  duck  riding  suit;  breeches,  etc.,  the  coat 
cut  as  short  as  extreme  mode  allows;  brown 
boots;  brown  hat.  MRS.  KINNEY  is  handsome, 
youthful-looking;  she  might  be  thirty,  but  is 
older.  ATHALTE  is  a  very  pretty  blonde,  of  con 
siderable  distinction;  her  manner  and  voice  sug 
gest  ETHEL  BARRYMORE'S — as  if  she  affected  it. 
HOWITT  and  ATHALIE  are  drinking  through 
straws  out  of  long  glasses. 

VI CTROL  A— ONE-STEP 

MRS.  KINNEY  seated  on  pier  L.  of  steps,  smok 
ing.  CYRIL  and  ELEANOR  dancing  from  up  L.C. 
to  doivn  R.  Back  to  up  L.C. — and  finish  down 
R. — as  victrola  stops.  ATHALIE  drops  down  L. 
to  table  during  dance.  HOWITT  goes  R.  back  of 
settee — around  it  and  up  c.  Counting  1-2-3-4 — 
as  they  dance.  Then  talks  to  MRS.  KINNEY. 
As  victrola  stops — MAUD  and  GORE  enter  C.E. — 
MAUD  comes  down  steps  to  c. — GORE  to  L.  of 
steps — talks  to  MRS.  KINNEY. 

The  victrola  stops — the  dancers  pause — MAUD 
HOWITT  appears  in  doorway,  laughing  teasingly 
at  ELEANOR.  MAUD  is  thirty;  very  pretty;  very 
<(smart"  in  an  afternoon  gown.  ARCHIE  GORE 
comes  out  with  MAUD;  he  is  muscular,  athletic- 
looking  man  of  fifty;  wealthy-looking.  Summer 
outdoor  clothes  and  white  shoes. 

STOP  VICTROLA 

ELEANOR.     (Runs    to    MAUD.     Pleading)      Oh, 

Maud !    Cyril  was  just  teaching-  me  that  step 

MAUD.     (Coming  out,  laughing)     The  victrola's 


44  THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN 

run  down  !     Go  in  and  wind  it  up.     (  Puts  an  arm 
around  ELEANOR  .) 

^ELEANOR  runs  into  house.) 

CYRIL.  (Quickly)  Not  for  me!  I  need  a  little 
lubrication  !  (Runs  up  to  table  on  the  terrace,  and 
seizes  a  long  drink  on  the  tray  that  is  there.  MAUD 
drops  down  R.  to  settee.) 

MRS.  KINNEY.  (Rather  carelessly)  You've  had 
several  since  lunch,  old  son.  Remember  what  hap 
pened  to  your  poor  papa! 

CYRIL.  Now,  Mamma  Why,  what  do  we  come 
visiting  to  the  country  for? 

ATHALIE.  (At  L.  of  table  L.J  Cards.  Horses. 
Flirt. 

CYRIL.  (Lifting  glass)  No.  Buttermilk  !  (Sips 
ostentatiously.) 

(Others  amused.    HOWITT  below  rail  L.,  talking  to 
MRS.  KINNEY.) 

GORE.  (Going  up  steps  to  top  c.)  I'll  go  you, 
Cyril.  I  have  to,  now  and  then  ("ELEANOR  enters 
c.E.J,  when  I  see  the  way  that  partner  of  mine  loafs 
on  his  job  —  since  his  daughter's  joined  him.  (Half- 
jocular,  half  -in-earnest.  He  takes  a  glass  from 
CYRIL.) 

MAUD.  (Sits  L.  end  of  settee  R.c.j  I  won't  have 
my  husband  blamed,  if  he  is  your  poor  little  slave 
of  a  partner  ! 


,  seeing  ELEANOR,  reaches  out  his  hand  over 
terrace  wall  and  helps  her  down  steps  to  R.  of 
them  —  puts  arm  around  her  —  and  both  stand 
taking  in  scene.) 

GORE.     (Coming    down     to     MAUD)       "Slave!" 
(Grunts  out  a  laugh.) 


THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN  45 

MAUD.  (Continuing  quickly)  Look  how  you're 
loafing  yourself ! 

GORE.  Got  a  right  to.  I'm  one  of  your  daugh 
ter's  week-enders.  More  reason  Howitt  ought  to 
be  at  the  office.  (Offers  her  drink  he  has  in  his 
hand.  She  refuses  it.) 

ELEANOR.  He  won't  be  at  anybody's  office  much 
longer.  Now  he's  got  me,  he's  going  to  retire  before 
long. 

GORE.  (Laughingly)  Oh,  is  he!  (Goes  up  to 
rail  R.  and  drinks  ivith  CYRIL,  who  is  sitting  on  rail.) 

HOWITT.     We'll  see.    Are  you  happy? 

ELEANOR.  "Happy!"  It's  just  like  a  beautiful 
dream ! 

HOWITT.  And  you  like  your  "villa"  and  your 
guests 

(GoRE  goes  down  R.  to  settee — sits  R.  end.) 

HOWITT.  (Continuing)  And  your  new  mamma 
— you  love  her,  too,  don't  you? 

ELEANOR.  (Quickly,  turns — looks  at  MAUD) 
Papa,  let's  just  call  Maud, — Maud.  (Changing  to 
enthusiasm)  Of  course  I  love  her !  (Turns  back 
to  him)  She's  so  crazy  to  give  me  a  good  time. 

HOWITT.  (Lighting  a  cigarette)  That's  what 
everything's  for,  dear.  (Puts  his  arm  around  her.) 

MRS.  KINNEY.  (On  pier  L.  of  steps.  Carelessly) 
What  a  pair  of  softies — like  some  kind  old  man — 
and  his  dear  little  stenographer !  (^ELEANOR  doesnt 
understand;  looks  puzzled.  No  pause.  HOWITT 
steps  toward  MRS.  KINNEY.  MRS.  KINNEY,  at  con 
clusion  of  her  speech,  casually  takes  HOWITT'S  ciga 
rette  from  his  mouth  and  places  it  in  her  own,  turn 
ing  to  MAUD,  then  immediately  glancing  back  at 
ELEANOR,  she  says  carelessly)  Don't  be  shocked, 
young  Eleanor ;  Maud  isn't. 

ELEANOR.  (Smiling)  I — I'm  not  shocked7 
Papa's  told  me :  The  Right  Sort  can  do  anything. 


46  THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN 

HOWITT.  (Laughing.  Going  back  to  ELEANOR 
on  steps — puts  arm  around  her)  Come  on.  Let's 
go  count  the  roses  again!  (He  takes  her  up  steps 
to  c. — she  stops.) 

ELEANOR.  ^ATHALIE  L.  of  table  L.C. — with  knee 
on  chair — watching  them)  And  Papa,  isn't  it  the 
grandest  thing,  cousin  Nancy  Price  knowing  such 
peopie  ? 

HOWITT.  (Grimly)  I  hope  it's  going  to  do  Miss 
Price  good !  (Going  L.  with  her  on  terrace)  That's 
what  I  want  to  talk  to  you  about,  sweetheart. 
(Exeunt  L.j 

("MAUD  rises — goes  up  c.    GORE  finishes  drink — puts 
glass  on  table  back  of  settee  R.c.J 

MRS.  K.  (Catching  ELEANOR'S  speech,  carelessly) 
"Price!"  Is  that  the  name  of  the  genteel  person 
from  somewhere  that  arrived  this  morning?  Who 
or  what? 

MAUD.  (Casually,  going  to  MRS.  KINNEYJ 
Country  cousin  of  Eleanor's.  I  wouldn't  be  too 
cordial. 

MRS.  K.     Not  precisely  ! 

ATHALIE.  (Catching  this  as  she  kneels  on  chair 
L.  of  table  L.C.  With  a  languidly  satirical  laugh)  I 
do  loathe  the  honest  bourgeoisie!  "Price!"  Quel 
nom !  (Going  R. — GORE  sees  her  coming  toivard  him 
— gets  up  in  haste — goes  to  chair  extreme  R.  and  sits. 
She  goes  up  R.C.  to  terrace  rail  R. — and  drinks 
through  a  straw  CYRIL'S  drink  while  he  drinks  from 
same  glass.) 

MRS.  K.     What'd  you  let  Eleanor  ask  her  for? 

MAUD.  (With  a  short  laugh  of  protest)  "Let" 
her?  Stan  and  I  didn't  know  anything  about  it  till 
this  morning  when  Eleanor  casually  informed  us 
that  her  "Cousin  Nancy"  was  here!  (Crosses  down 
L.C.  and  sits  in  chair  front  of  table)  Eleanor's 
ghastly  youthful. 


THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN  47 

MRS.  K.     What's  Stan  think  of  it? 

MAUD.  (Confidentially)  Furious.  Of  course 
he  can't  show  it.  Naturally,  it's  plain  as  day;  the 
mother  couldn't  keep  her  hands  off — hence  our  new 
visitor. 

MRS.  K.  (Sagely.  Rises  and  goes  down  L.C.  to 
back  of  chair  R.  of  table)  I  shouldn't  think  you 
need  worry  much,  old  party ! 

MAUD.  (Smiling  wisely)  No.  I  doubt  if  she 
finds  herself  so  awfully  in  with  everybody! 

MRS.  K.  (Looking  up  to  ATHALIE)  Do  you  get 
it,  Athalie,  old  kitten? 

ATHALIE.  (Drops  doivn  to  table  back  of  settee 
R.C.  Languidly  glancing  down,  having  apparently 
paid  no  attention  since  her  last  speech)  Nom  de 
Dieu  !  Ta  queule,  bebe !  (MAUD  laughs  wisely)  I'm 
on!  (Turns  her  head  again  to  GORE,  who  turns 
away  in  disgust.) 

MRS.  K.  (Change  of  tone  to  MAUD.  Goes  down 
c.  a  few  steps)  I  thought  you  said  George  was  to 
be  with  us  by  to-day  ? 

ATHALIE.  (Turning  again,  with  a  sudden  lan 
guid  intensity  before  MAUD  can  reply)  She  did 
promise  George  would  be  here !  Where  is  that  gor 
geous  he?  (She  calls  it  "Gawge"  drawlingly,  and 
with  emphasis.) 

fGoRE  again  shows  his  dislike  for  her.  CYRIL  gets 
up  from  rail — wheels  around  with  hands  in  air 
and  drops  limp  in  chair  R.  of  c.Ej 

MRS.  K.  (Crossing  to  her)  You'll  have  to  keep 
your  hands  off,  Athalie,  old  party!  They  want 
George  for  young  Eleanor.  ( Not  an  aside.) 

ATHALIE.  They'll  never  get  him  for  young  Elea 
nor!  fMAUD  laughs  wisely)  I've  been  trying  for 
years.  He  thinks  I'm  a  rug.  He  walks  on  me.  I 
adore  for  George  to  walk  on  me ! 


48  THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN 

( CYRIL  again  gets  up — same  bus. — drops  in  chair 
L.  of  C.E.  GORE  registers  disgust.  MRS.  KIN- 
NEY  goes  up  to  pier  L.  of  steps  and  sits.) 

MAUD.     (Smiling)     You  let  our  Georgia  alone! 

GORE.  (To  MAUD.  Rises,  crosses  to  c.)  Which 
of  your  Georgies  is  this,  Maud  ? 

MAUD.  Best  little  George  I've  got,  Mr.  Gore. 
George  Tewksberry  Reynolds,  Third. 

GORE.     Oh,  him! 

MAUD.  Just  the  same.  Fashion  papers  could  do 
better  without  patterns  than  without  photographs  of 
George  Tewksberry  Reynolds,  Third.  Car's  at  the 
station  for  him. 

ATHALTE.  That  cuts  our  riding  down  to  about 
ten  minutes,  Widow  Kinney.  Come  on.  (Going  up 
to  steps.  MRS.  KINNEY  rises.  CYRIL  dashes  over 
to  table — gets  drink — as  he  sees  her  coming  toward 
him  up  steps.  MRS.  KINNEY  starts  to  follow  her — 
goes  up  steps — stops — seeing  CYRIL  with  another 
drink  in  his  hand)  I  want  to  get  back  by  the  time 
Monsieur  le  Prince  George  gets  here,  don't  I  ?  Ven- 
tre  Saint  Guis !  (Exits  L.  along  terrace.) 

MRS.  K.     Cyril  Kinney? 

fGoRE  goes  L.  back  of  table  to  extreme  L.     MAUD 
rises — goes  slowly  to  c.) 

CYRIL.     (At  table)    Dear  old  mumsey? 

MRS.  K.     Put  down  that  drink (Broken.) 

CYRIL.  (Obediently)  Yes,  mumsey.  (Lifts  full 
glass  and  starts  to  swallow  rapidly.) 

MRS.  K.  (Sharply)  I  mean  put  down  the 

glass ^CYRIL  says  "Oh!"  and  does  so)  Go 

hold  my  stirrup! 

CYRIL.  (Briskly,  as  he  does  so)  Yes,  mumsey. 
(He  shows  no  effects  of  drink  except  in  a  rather 
staring  smile.) 


THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN  49 

MRS.  K.  (On  terrace  c.  Smilingly,  but  in  ear 
nest  to  MAUD,  as  CYRIL  crosses)  There,  old  party ! 
I  think  the  way  I  maneuver  so  that  you  and  Archie 
Gore  can  get  a  little  time  tog-ether,  now  and  then 

(  CYRIL  exits  Lj 

MAUD.  (Going  up  to  steps.  Speaking  lightly  to 
MRS.  KINNEY,  as  the  latter  follows  CYRIL  off  L.J 
Good  old  Janie ! 

GORE.  (Comes  toward  her — after  a  glance  to 
ward  L.)  Maud!  (He  speaks  her  name  with  a 
hushed  eagerness.) 

MAUD.  (In  a  low  tone,  crisply)  Don't  be  im 
petuous,  Archie.  My  husband  and  Eleanor  are  just 
over  there.  They  could  see  us  if  they  happened  to 
turn  this  way.  (Drops  down  R.cJ 

GORE.  (With  a  short,  light  laugh.  Going  to  her) 
You  don't  suppose  Stan  would  mind,  do  you  ? 

MAUD.  (Thoughtfully.  Going  to  settee)  I  let 
Stan  go  his  way  and  he  lets  me  go  mine ;  but  don't 
forget,  he  and  I  are  very  good  friends,  Archie. 
(Sits.) 

GORE.  (At  R.C.  Lightly.  Amused)  Well,  your 
new  daughter  seems  pretty  well  fascinated  with 
things. 

MAUD.     (Cheerfully^    "It's  the  life!" 

GORE.  (Smiling)  Think  she's  crazy  about  her 
stepmother,  too,  Maud? 

MAUD.  (Showing  a  pretty  wrist-watch)  Doesn't 
that  look  like  it? 

GORE.  (Taking  her  hand  in  both  of  his — looks 
at  watch)  That  doesn't  prove  much! — I  gave  one 
like  that  to  my  wife !  You're  a  great  little  present- 
getter,  Maudie! 

MAUD.  (Gaily)  Aren't  I?  Perhaps  you  remem 
ber  a  certain  pretty  brooch — 'big,  good  ruby  and 
good  little  rubies  and  white  diamond — at  Strom- 


50  THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN 

berg's — that  I  put  up  some  pretty  strong  hints  about 
to  a  certain  old  party  (Drops  her  hand— turns  away), 
a  great  friend  of  mine  who  happens  to  be  head  of 
my  husband's  firm  in  business  ? 

GORE.  (Turning  back  to  her)  Oh,  but  Maud! 
I  couldn't!  What  would  people  have  thought? 
That  wouldn't  have  looked  well. 

MAUD.  (Triumphantly)  It  would  have  looked 
well  on  me — and  it's  going  to ! 

GORE.  (Incredulous.  Pause)  You  mean  the  lit 
tle  girl's  going  to  buy  it  for  you? 

MAUD.     She  has! 

GORE.     You're  a  marvel ! 

MAUD.     You  ought  to  know! 

GORE.  (Grinning  ruefully)  I  certainly  ought  to 
know  what  you  and  Star  can  spend — but  you're  go 
ing  a  new  gait  this  summer!  She  may  not  have 
much  left  by  the  time  you  marry  her  off  to  George 
Reynolds ! 

MAUD.  But  in  the  meantime  what  a  time  we're 
having!  (Claps  her  hands  like  a  child.  This  is  the 
essence  of  her  character:  should  be  starred.) 

GORE.  (Laughing)  And,  of  course,  George  Rey 
nolds  has  plenty!  (Offers  her  cigarette  from  his 
case.  She  refuses.  More  drily)  Is  he  going  to 
marry  her? 

MAUD.  Oh,  he's  very  much  crown-prince,  and 
run  after — but  we're  sure  he  likes  Eleanor.  She's 
so  peachy  fresh. 

GORE.     How  about  her? 

MAUD.  She  hangs  on  Stan's  eyelids.  When  Stan 
talks  George,  she  thinks  George. 

GORE.     Yes, — I  suppose  so. 

MAUD.  (Frowning.  Rises — crosses  to  L.c.J 
That's  what  has  started  something  rather  like  a 
nuisance  for  us. 

GORE.     How?    (Follows  her  to  c.) 

MAUD.     Eleanor,  the  little  goose,  wrote  home  to 


THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN  51 

her  mother  that  her  father  "thought  so  highly  of 
one  of  the  young  men"  and  also  mentioned  taking 
this  place  and  buying  a  couple  of  cars.  Result:  the 
Price  girl  arrived  this  morning — invited,  of  course, 
at  the  mother's  suggestion,  by  simple  Eleanor. 
Never  told  us!  Pleasant  for  Me!  (Goes  L. — front 
of  table)  Since  lunch,  Miss  Price  has  changed  her 
frock  and  gone  poking  all  over  the  place  like  an  in 
surance  adjuster! 

GORE.  What's  she  going  to  think  of  Crown- 
Prince  George? 

MAUD.  (Sits  on  table  L.C.  Quickly,  spiritedly) 
What's  he  going  to  think  of  her?  He  sa\v  her  when 
he  went  out  there  with  Stan — and  you  ought  to  hear 
him  describe  her!  (Laughs  mirthfully)  Nobody 
knows  how  to  make  people  so  uncomfortable  as  the 
great  George  when  he  doesn't  like  their  type— 
and  he  doesn't  like  hers!  He's  one  reason  I  don't 
think  she'll  stay  long! 

fGoRE  crosses  to  R.C.) 

SERVANT.  (Comes  in  C.E. — stands  on  top  step  R.) 
Mr.  Reynolds  has  arrived,  Madam.  He  is  coming 
downstairs. 

MAUD.  (Jumping  tip.)  Good.  fGoRE  goes  R., 
sits  in  chair  extreme  R.  Calling  off  L.J  Eleanor! 
Oh,  Stan  !  George  is  here  !  (She  goes  R,  of  steps.) 

SERVANT.  I  told  Mr.  Reynolds  you  were  out 
here,  madam. 

fHowiTT  and  ELEANOR  come  on  L.    They  stand  L. 
of  steps.) 

MAUD.  (Looking  off  through  c.E.J  Hooray  for 
Georgie ! 

('GEORGE  enters  C.E.    He  goes  quickly  to  ELEANOR, 
taking  her  hand.) 


52  THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN 

GEORGE.  My  dear  young  lady !  (Turns  swiftly 
to  MAUD;  kisses  her  hand.  She  goes  R.  and  sits  on 
arm  of  settee)  My  dear  Mrs.  Howitt!  H'lo,  Stan 
Do,  Gore.  (To  ELEANOR  again)  I  brought  you  a 
beautiful  box  of  candy.  It's  in  my  room.  Do  you 
mind  leaving  it  there?  They  say  if  you  eat  a  great 
deal  of  candy  when  you  go  to  the  country,  you  don't 
tipple  so  much. 

(MAUD  sits;  he  gives  her  a  cigarette.) 

MAUD.  (Cheerily)  We're  glad  you're  here, 
George,  aren't  we,  Eleanor  ? 

ELEANOR.  Yes.  f  ELEANOR  looks  shy;  HOWITT 
speaks  quickly  for  her.) 

HOWTTT.  Yes,  of  course  she  is!  (Gaily.  Puts 
his  arm  around  her — takes  her  down  L.C.  He  sits  in 
chair  R.  of  table — she  stands  R.  of  him — holding  his 
hand.) 

GEORGE.  (Warmly  to  ELEANOR,)  I  hope  so ! 
(Changing  his  tone.  Going  to  MAUD^  I  say,  you 
have  a  vicious  neighborhood,  though.  Awful  peo 
ple  getting  off  at  your  station. 

MAUD.     What  made  you  think  so? 

GEORGE.  People  carrying  wicker  suitcases !  (As 
if  that  settled  them.) 

ELEANOR.  (Anxiously)  Is  that  wrong? 
Shouldn't  one  carry  a  wicker (Broken.) 

GEORGE.  (Protesting)  The  dernier  cri  of  the 
pure  plebeian !  Straw  bags  and  wicker  bags ! 

GORE.     (Testily)     Often  carried  one  myself. 

GEORGE.     (Impudently)     Yes,  you  would. 

MAUD.  (Laughing,  to  GORE)  Never  mind ;  our 
Georgie  has  a  right  to  his  pet  dislikes. 

HOWITT.  (Amused)  Why,  what's  the  matter 
with  wicker  suitcases,  George? 

GEORGE.  (Taking  c.)  My  dear  man,  there  are 
just  two  kinds  of  people  in  this  world.  People  like 


THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN  53 

me — us,  that  is  to  say — and  people  who  carry  wicker 
suitcases.  People  who  carry  wicker  suitcases  tend 
to  their  own  furnaces  and  varnish  their  own  boots. 
They  drive  in  things  called  surreys — with  fringe 
round  the  top — and  they  have  engravings  of  Wash 
ington  crossing  the  Delaware  in  what  they  call  the 
"sitting-room."  I  fancy  I'm  as  democratic  as  any 
body,  but  it  strikes  me  there  really  ought  to  be  a  So 
ciety  for  the  Prevention  of  wicker  suitcases! 
(Crosses  R.  to  MAUD.J 

SERVANT.  (Appearing  in  C.E.  with  a  wicker  suit 
case.  Stands  L.  end  of  top  step)  I  beg  your  par 
don,  madam,  but —  (Broken.) 

MAUD.  (Quickly,  amused  and  pleased)  Look 
what  he's  got  in  his  hand !  Right  on  top  of  your 
oration ! 

GEORGE.     Is  it  his  own? 

MAUD.  I  fancy  it  belongs  to  our  guest,  Miss 
Price. 

GEORGE.     Your  guest? 

MAUD.     It  is  Miss  Price's,  isn't  it,  Pruitt? 

PRUITT.     ( The  servant)     Yes,  madam ;  the  bag 
is  Miss  Price's.    Miss  Price  asked  me  to  have  some 
things  pressed  for  her.     I  merely  happened  to — 
(Broken.) 

GEORGE.  (With  great  distaste)  Who  is  "Miss 
Price"  ?  (Remembering)  Oh !  Not  the  Miss  Price 
who  runs  a  farm  out  in 

("ELEANOR  looks  at  HownrJ 
MAUD.     Sh! 

("ELEANOR  is  profoundly  mortified.) 

GEORGE.     (Incredulous)     Miss — ah — Price  is  the 

wicker  suitcase  person  ? 

ELEANOR.     (Gasping)    Oh!     (Runs  to  C.E.J 


54  THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN 

HOWITT.  (Following,  comforting)  Don't  mind, 
dear. 

( ELEANOR  exits  C.E.    HOWITT  stops  at  door.) 

MAUD.  (Rises,  crosses  to  L.C.  Amused)  Take 
it  away,  Pruitt. 

("CYRIL  enters  L.) 

PRUITT.  Yes,  madam.  I  merely  stopped  on  my 
way,  madam,  to  let  you  know  that  Mr.  Gore's  yacht 
has  been  sighted  quite  some  time  ago,  coming  into 
the  harbor. 

GORE.     (Rises,  crosses  to  c.)    By  Jove ;  on  time ! 

MAUD.  (Speaking  at  the  same  time)  Hooray ! 
Archie,  you  are  a  dear! 

CYRIL.  Hooray!  (He  shows  no  increased  in 
toxication  except  by  fixed  smile.  Goes  up  to  table 
and  drinks  another  quietly.  Talks  to  HOWITT  dur 
ing  scene.  No  pause  for  his  speech.  No  one  no 
tices  him.) 

GORE.  (Explaining  to  HOWITT  and  GEORGEJ  I 
thought  it  might  please  young  Eleanor  and  give  us 
all  a  lark !  I  had  my  boat  sent  round  so  we  could 
have  dinner  and  dance  aboard. 

HOWITT.  (On  terrace — leans  over  rail)  Very 
good  of  you,  Archie. 

PRUITT.  She's  just  off  the  pier,  sir;  come  to  an 
chor. 

(Exit  L.  along  terrace.) 

GORE.  (Going  up  steps)  I'll  run  aboard  and  see 
there's  something  proper  on  ice. 

CYRIL.     (Quietly)     I'll  go  with  you. 

GORE.  What  ho,  for  a  little  old-fashioned  romp 
to-night,  eh,  Maudie? 


THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN  55 

MAUD.  (Merrily,  as  he  exits  with  CYRIL  and 
Ho  WITT,  C.E.  j  We're  game  \  (Laughing.  Going  R. 
to  settee)  Oh,  but  that  wicker  suitcase  was  pat  ! 

GEORGE.  (Coldly,  coming  down  R.cJ  Wicker 
suitcases  aren't  ever  a  joke,  dear  lady  ! 

MAUD.  (Looking  in  c.Ej  Well,  here's  one,  any 
how.  (Crossing  L.  to  table.) 

GEORGE.     Where  ? 

MAUD.     (Sits  on  table)    There  ! 


appears  C.E.    She  wears  a  pretty  afternoon 
gown,  rather  simple,  and  carries  a  sewing  bag.) 

NANCY.  (Friendly,  but  a  little  shy)  I  beg  your 
pardon.  I  - 

MAUD.  (With  secret,  mischievous  amusement, 
rising.  GEORGE  goes  down  R.  of  settee)  Oh,  come 
out,  Miss  Price.  ('NANCY  drops  sewing  bag  in  chair 
L.  of  C.E.  on  terrace.  Pauses,  then  introduces,  look 
ing  at  GEORGE,)  Here's  somebody  you've  met  be 
fore.  (NANCY  comes  down  steps.  GEORGE  bows 
stiffly.) 

NANCY.  (Simply  and  in  a  friendly  voice,  going 
R.C.  toward  him)  How  d'y'  do?  (Bozvs.) 

MAUD.  (Crossing  to  steps  c.)  I  don't  think  I 
could  do  better  than  leave  you  two  to  get  better 
acquainted  !  (Unable  to  control  her  mirth,  she  gives 
them  a  brimming  glance;  presses  her  handkerchief 
over  her  mouth  and  runs  off;  they  do  not  look  at  her. 
GEORGE  stands  frozenly  for  a  moment  and  then  starts 
slightly  as  NANCY  speaks.) 

NANCY.  (Pleasantly)  When  you  came  out  to 
Centerville  with  Mr.  Howitt  —  it  was  a  very  agitated 
time,  you  see  --  (Broken.  This  speech  is  the  be 
ginning  of  an  explanation  that  she  doesn't  knozv  his 
name;  but  he  interrupts.) 

GEORGE.  I  really  didn't  notice.  All  I  remember 
is  a  neighbor  boy  making  such  a  lot  of  noise.  (Makes 
a  small  bow  —  crosses  L.  to  L.c.j 


56  THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN 

NANCY.  (Goes  R.  a  step)  I  think  I  told  you  then 
that  I  am  Miss  Price. 

GEORGE.  Ah?  (As  though  not  comprehending) 
Price.  Yes.  Price.  I  quite  understand.  (Bows 
again.  Goes  up,  intending  to  exit  C.E.) 

NANCY.  (Going  on  pleasantly)  But  as  it  hap 
pens  I  never  have  heard  your  name. 

GEORGE.  (Unwillingly  detained)  No.  I  see. 
Yes.  (Bows.  Going  out  again — one  foot  on  step.) 

NANCY.  ( Sits  on  settee  R.c.  Smiling  faintly)  I 
suppose,  as  we've  really  "met,"  we're  at  liberty  to 
discuss  it. 

GEORGE.  (Checked  again — comes  down  a  few 
steps)  "Discuss  it?"  Discuss  what? 

NANCY.     Who  you  are. 

GEORGE.  (Incredulous)  Who  I  am  ?  Who  7  am  ? 
(Whispering)  Oh,  my  God!  (Goes  down  L.cJ 

NANCY.  Of  course,  even  if  I  hadn't  taken  you 
for  Mr.  Howitt  when  I  first  saw  you,  I'd  have  been 
pretty  sure  you  weren't  from  our  part  of  the  coun 
try. 

GEORGE.     (Turns)     Iowa,  you  mean? 

NANCY.     No.    Ohio ! 

GEORGE.  (Going  to  c.)  Was  it?  Ah — we  were 
motoring-,  you  see — I  never  was  quite  straight  on 
whether  it  was  Iowa  or  Ohio  we  were  in.  (Stepping 
to  her)  Which  is  which? 

NANCY.     Why,  Ohio  is ! 

GEORGE.  Of  course  it  is  rather  a  task  to  distin 
guish  between  all  those  mixed-up  places  out  there 

so  far  away  from  things ! 

NANCY.  WTe  have  a  lot  of  old  people  in  our 
neighborhood  used  to  be  like  that!  They'd  never 
traveled  any:  just  stayed  where  their  grandfathers 
settled,  and  got  so  used  to  Ohio  running  the  whole 
United  States  most  of  the  time,  all  they  knew  about 
New  York  was,  that  it  was  where  the  Brooklyn 
Bridge  is! — You  needn't  be  mortified  because  you 


THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN  57 

don't  know  history;  we  have  people  just  as  back 
ward,  right  out  there  where  we  make  it !  And  as 
for  geography 

GEORGE.  Do  you  give  lectures  on  geography, 
too? 

NANCY.  (Wistfully)  I'm  afraid  I  only  know  it 
from  books :  I  think  if  I  lectured  the  title  would 
have  to  be  'Travels  in  a  Surrey." 

GEORGE.  (To  her  with  grim  triumph)  I  knew 
it !  (Facing  front)  I  knew  it ! 

NANCY.  (In  a  tone  of  gentle  inquiry.  Leans 
fonvard)  Something  you — know  ? 

GEORGE.  (Facing  her)  I  think  I  saw  it.  It's 
got  fringe  around  the  top,  hasn't  it? 

NANCY.     What  ? 

GEORGE.     Your — ah — surrey ! 

NANCY.  (Quietly)  No.  No  fringe  on  mine.  I 
live  so  unostentatiously,  you  see. 

GEORGE.  (Not  sure  whether  or  not  she  is  satiri 
cal)  Do  you?  One  thing  I'm  almost  positive  of, 
though :  Don't  you  own  an  engraving  of  Washington 
crossing  the  Delaware? 

NANCY.  (Looking  at  him  steadily  and  quietly) 
Grandfather  did,  but  it  passed  to  the  other  side  of 
the  family. 

GEORGE.  Indeed?  And  you  really  have  grand 
fathers  out^  there !  I  must  say  it  didn't  look  it.  All 
sorts  of  civilization.  (Steps  away  L.  )  Surreys, 
grandfathers,  sewing  machines,  telephones — (Turns 
back) — or  do  you  have  telephones? — I  didn't  no 
tice. 

NANCY.  Why,  haven't  you  ever  telephoned  out 
to  Ohio — not  even  on  business? 

GEORGE.  (Slightly  stung)  Really,  I  haven't  much 
to  do  with  things  like  business.  (Starts  to 

go.) 

NANCY.     (Exclaiming)     I  think  I've  got  it! 
GEORGE.     (Bored)    Is  it  anything  of  much  impor- 


58  THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN 

tance  that  one  should  inquire  what  you  think  you've 
got? 

NANCY.  Your  name — or  one  just  like  it.  (He 
becomes  visibly  more  haughty  instantly;  she  hastens 
to  explain)  It's  a  habit  I  have — it  passes  the  time 
on  trains,  for  instance — looking  at  strangers  and  try 
ing  to  think  of  names  to  suit  them. 

GEORGE.  Indeed?  I'm  to  understand  that  dur 
ing  my  unimportant  remarks,  you've  been — ah — 
looking  at  me (Broken.) 

NANCY.  (Quickly,  seriously)  Not  staring,  I 
hope ! 

GEORGE.  (Annoyed,  sharply)  Looking  at  me,  I 
said,  and  thinking  of  a  name  to  suit  me? 

NANCY.  (In  quick  protest)  Oh,  I  mean  a  real 
name — a  proper  name — not  like  calling  people 
names!  I'm  sure  I  wouldn't  have (Broken.) 

GEORGE.     Thank  you  so  much ! 

NANCY.  It's  curious  how  people's  names  suit 
them,  and  it's  still  more  curious  to  see  how  close 
you  can  come  to  a  stranger's  name  with  a  little  ob 
servation  of  him.  (Thoughtfully)  Yes,  I've  been 
looking  at  you — (He  faces  front — resentful) — and 
thinking  about  you (Broken.) 

GEORGE.  Of  course  I'm  enormously  flattered  and 
so  forth!  I  suppose  one  must  dutifully  enquire: 
(Steps  toward  her)  What  is  your  name  for 
me? 

NANCY.  Well,  your  first  name  might  be — Wil 
bur.  (He  gives  her  a  look — then  faces  front. 
GEORGE'S  lips  move,  repeating  the  name  incredu 
lously)  And  I  was  sure  that  your  last  name  was  a 
color,  like  White  or  Black  or  Green  or  Brown. 
Brown,  I  think.  And  then  I  was  sure  you  had  a 
middle  name — something  terribly  unlikely — like 

Dorincourt  or  Marmaduke  or  Fitzherbert 

(Broken.) 

GEORGE.     (Very  quickly,  and  with  temper,  hand- 


THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN  59 

ing  her  a  card  from  his  cardcase)  Permit  me  to  en 
lighten  you ! 

NANCY.  (Quickly  and  triumphantly,  as  she  reads 
his  card)  Tewksberry !  I  was  almost  right !  Read 
ing  the  card  more  attentively.  GEORGE  makes  sharp 
turn)  George  Tewksberry  Reynolds.  (Then  more 
slowly)  Eye,  eye,  eye?  (The  card  is  printed  GEORGE 
TEWKSBERRY  REYNOLDS,  Third,  the  "Third"  being 
in  Roman  numerals  III.  She  looks  at  him  atten^ 
tively,  and  then  reads  the  card  again,  as  if  more 
puzzled)  "George  Tewksberry  Reynolds/'  Eye,  eye, 
eye?  (Reading  the  "eyes"  with  the  increased  em 
phasis  of  her  increased  puzzlement. ) 

GEORGE.  (Indignantly)  No!  It's  not  "eye,  eye, 
eye!"  It's  George  Tewksberry  Reynolds  Third! 

NANCY.  (Completely  puzzled)  Third?  Third 
what? 

GEORGE.     My  soul!     (Walks  away  Lj 

NANCY.  (Timidly  inquiring)  Does  it  mean 
something  you  do  about  baseball  ? 

GEORGE.  (Controlling  himself  with  difficulty. 
Goes  back  to  her)  No!  It  means  that  my  grand 
father's  name  was  George  Tewksberry  Reynolds, 
that  my  fathers  name  was  George  Tewksberry  Rey 
nolds,  and  that  my  name  is  George  Tewksberry 
Reynolds.  (On  his  fingers)  One,  two,  three! 
George  Tewksberry  Reynolds,  third !  I'm  the  third. 
(Almost  furiously)  Does  that  help  you  at  all? 

NANCY.  And  are  your  grandfather  and  father 
still  alive?  George  the  First,  George  the  Second, 
and  George  the  Third — so  people  can  tell  you 
apart  ? 

GEORGE.  (Violently)  They're  dead,  thank  you! 
(Facing  front.) 

NANCY.  (Trying  to  maintain  her  composure) 

Oh,  no;  thank  you!  You •  (Is  unable  to  finish 

the  word  "you"  but  bursts  into  laughter,  which  she 
is  unable  to  control.) 


6o  THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN 

GEORGE.  (In  fury)  This  is  merely  outrageous ! 
(Starts  for  the  house.) 

NANCY.  (But  partially  controlling  herself.  Rises 
— goes  a  step  R.j  I  know  it !  I  know  it ! 

GEORGE.  (Goes  up  steps — halting  and  turning 
toward  her)  It  strikes  you  as  absurd? 

NANCY.  (Still  laughing,  but  apologetically)  No, 
no !  I'm  not  laughing—  (Appealingly.) 

GEORGE.  (Furious)  I  see  you're  not!  (Down 
steps  and  to  c.)  If  you  think  it's  good  taste  to ! 

NANCY.  (Crossing  to  him  at  c.  Seriously  and 
quickly)  I'm  really  not  so  inconsiderate.  It  just 
reminded  me —  (Suddenly  gives  way  to  laughter 
again.  GEORGE  starts  to  leave,  but  turns  back  as  she 
speaks  again)  When  you  said  it  that  way,  I  couldn't 
help  remembering  Jud  Cooley  that  used  to  work  at 
Uncle  Ben's  place!  When  they  had  to  take  the 
poor  old  thing  off  to  the  County  Infirmary  he  kept 
shouting  "My  goodness,  don't  you  know  who  I  am? 
I'm  the  worst  old  man  that  ever  lived!  I'm  old 
Henry  the  Eighth !" 

GEORGE.  (With  profound  bitterness)  Oh,  thank 
you!  Thank  you  very  much!  (Goes  straight  off 
L.  front  of  table.) 

NANCY.  (Follows  him  to  table  L.  Controlling 
herself  and  protesting)  Oh,  you  mustn't  mind !  I 

wouldn't  distress  you  for (Stops.    She  stands 

alone  upon  the  stage  looking  off  after  him.  Then 
she  turns,  very  thoughtfully  picks  up  his  card,  looks 
at  it  for  a  moment,  and  then  still  thoughtfully  cocks 
her  head  to  one  side,  continuing  to  look  at  the  card, 
in  that  attitude  rather  whimsically.  Laughing) 

George      Tewksberry      Reynolds — eye-eye-eye 

(Drops  into  chair  R.  of  table.) 

(ELEANOR  appears  with  HOWITT  in  interior,  up  of 
C.E.  They  seem  to  be  concluding  a  conversa 
tion,  She  is  perturbed.  He  looks  gravef  with 


THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN  61 

a  gesture  he  indicates  that  it  would  be  better 
for  her  to  go  out  to  NANCY.  His  gesture  means 
''Get  it  over  with."  ELEANOR,  very  serious, 
steps  out  C.E.  upon  terrace.) 

ELEANOR.  (Seething  underneath)  Nancy! 
Nancy!  (Comes  down  to  meet  NANCY.,) 

NANCY.  (Rises — quickly  going  up  and  putting 
an  arm  round  her)  Darling!  They  haven't  given 
us  a  chance  to  talk  at  all.  (She  looks  at  HOWITT  as 
if  to  dismiss  him.  He  takes  the  hint  and  goes.) 

ELEANOR.  (With  excited  severity)  Nancy,  I 
was  coming  out  here,  but  I  heard  you  talking  to 
Mr.  Reynolds  and  I  couldn't!  Nancy,  papa  and  I 
were  standing  just  inside  that  window  there,  and 
we  heard  everything  you  said !  It  was  awful ! 

NANCY.     (Gravely  amused)    You  thought  so? 

ELEANOR.  (Aghast,  all  in  a  breath)  Comparing 
him  with  lunatics  and — and  people  like  Henry  the 
Eighth!  Don't  you  know  who  he  is?  Don't  you 
ever  read  anything?  He  goes  everywhere.  Can't 
you  see  what  he  is? 

NANCY.  (Lightly)  Yes,  I  think  I  can.  (Crosses 
R.  front  of  ELEANOR.  J 

ELEANOR.  (Folloiving  her)  Why  on  earth  did 
you  go  and  make  such  awful  jay  breaks  before  him? 
Why,  he's  the  most  distinguished  one  that's  here ! 

NANCY.  Oh!  Why  didn't  you  tell  me?  (Sits 
on  settee  R.cJ  What  does  he  do? 

ELEANOR.     Nothing! 

NANCY.  Well,  that  seems  to  suit  his  talents  per 
fectly.  (^ELEANOR  goes  to  L.C.  Then  briskly)  Elea 
nor,  how  much  did  this  "villa"  cost  you,  dear? 

ELEANOR.     (Crossly)    Seven  thousand  dollars. 

NANCY.     (Astounded)     Seven  thousand! 

ELEANOR.  (Crossing  back  to  NANCYJ  You're 
not  used  to  these  things.  Seven  thousand  isn't  ex 
pensive  for  a  place  like  this. 


62  THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN 

NANCY.  I  should  say  not!  \Vhy,  I  paid 

(Broken.) 

ELEANOR.  (Sharply)  I've  only  rented  the  place, 
Nancy ! 

NANCY.     Rented  ? 

ELEANOR.  Yes,  papa's  a  business  man,  and  he 
advised  it. 

NANCY.     He  did? 

ELEANOR.  Yes!  He  takes  care  of  all  my  busi 
ness  affairs  now. 

NANCY.  (Quietly)  He  took  care  of  your  moth 
er's  once!  (Rises.) 

ELEANOR.  (Sharply)  Nancy!  (Goes  up  to 
steps.) 

NANCY.  Eleanor!  I'm  sorry  I  said  it — here. 
(Holds  out  her  hand — ELEANOR  comes  down  and 
takes  it.  NANCY  sits  on  L.  arm  of  settee.) 

ELEANOR.  Nancy,  I  think  a  great  deal  more  for 
myself  lately  than  I  used  to  when  you  knew  me. 
(Lets  go  of  NANCY'S  hand)  Papa  and  I  were  talk 
ing1  (a  while  ago),  and  all  of  a  sudden  I  began  to 
wonder:  Did  mamma  think  you  ought  to  come  on 
here  to  sort  of  be  against  papa — and  the  rest? 

NANCY.  (Quickly — taking  her  hands  again)  No. 
Only  for — you. 

ELEANOR.  (Steps  L.  a  bit — faces  front.  Quietly) 
Well — you  mustn't  make  things  uncomfortable! 
These  people  are  easy-going,  but  you  don't  dream 
how  fastidious  they  are,  especially  Mr.  Reynolds! 
(Crying^  out  with  the  recollection  of  horror)  Oh! 
That  wicker  suitcase!  (Crossing  L.  to  table.) 

NANCY.  Your  mother  lent  it  to  me,  Eleanor. 
What's  the  matter  with  it? 

ELEANOR.  (Going  toward  her  to  c.  Declaiming 
with  horror)  People  that  carry  wicker  suitcases 
have  pictures  of  Washington  crossing  the  Delaware 
hanging  in  sitting-rooms.  Mr.  Reynolds  said  so! 

NANCY.     (Bridling)    Mr.  Reynolds  said  so  ?    Mr. 


THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN  63 

Reynolds  objects  to  wicker  suitcases  and  Washing 
ton  crossing  the  Delaware?  I  thought  that  was  set 
tled. 

ELEANOR.     (Snapping)     What  was? 

NANCY.  George  the  Third's  troubles  with  George 
Washington. 

ELEANOR.  (Excited  and  hostile)  Nancy,  Mr. 

Reynolds  is  the  man  papa  and  Maud  think 

(Broken.) 

NANCY.  (Rises — goes  to  her  at  c.  Sharply) 
Eleanor,  you  wrote  your  mother  about  "Somebody" 
your  father  liked  and  you'd  "never  seen  anybody 
nicer,"  but  you  didn't  mention  his  name.  That's 
part  of  what  frightened  her.  She  was  afraid  it 
might  be,  but  I  couldn't  believe  it  without  hearing 
it  from  you!  Don't  tell  me — don't  tell  me  it's 
George  the  Third ! 

ELEANOR.     (Defiantly)     It  is! 

NANCY.     (Incredulous)    WThat ! 

ELEANOR.  (Defiant)  And  Maud  says  he's  the 
greatest  catch  in (Broken.) 

NANCY.  (Seizing  her  hands)  Eleanor!  You 
can't  care  for  him ! 

ELEANOR.  (Superior  and  hostile)  It  doesn't 
matter  whether  I  do  or  not !  Don't  be  provincial ! 
Among  people  of  the  world  marriages  are  arranged. 

NANCY.  (Determinedly)  This  one  won't  be! 
(Walks  away  R.) 

ELEANOR.  (Hostile.  A  step  R. — then  stops)  I 
suppose  you  think  he's  egotistical.  Nothing  of  the 
kind (Broken.) 

NANCY.  (Grimly)  I  did  wonder  what  it  was! 
Tell  me! 

ELEANOR.     He's  superior! 

NANCY.  (Laughs)  He  certainly  is !  And,  oh ! 
What  a  mistake  I  made!  (Turning  R.) 

ELEANOR.     (Sharply)     What  about? 

NANCY.    (Turns  to  her)    About  Sammy  Wilson! 


64  THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN 

(ELEANOR  turns  away  with  disgust — goes  L.  to  table 
L.C. — NANCY  follows  to  c.)  One  of  the  reasons  I 
advised  your  mother  to  let  you  come  was  to  save 
you  from  marrying  such  a  little  bundle  of  conceit! 
(Marveling  and  remorseful)  Why,  Sam's  an  ama 
teur;  he  doesn't  know  what  it  means!  (Turns  R.  a 
bit.) 

ELEANOR.    What  what  means  ? 

NANCY.  Conceit!  Sam's  conceit  is  all  about 
what  he  means  to  make  himself ;  George  the  Third's 
conceit  is  about  what  he  thinks  others  have  made 
him.  Sam  means  to  be  an  ancestor;  George  the 
Third's  content  to  be  a  descendant.  Between  the 
two  I'll  take  the  ancestor!  (Turns — goes  R.) 

(M.RS.  KINNEY  and  ATHALIE  heard  off  L.,  approach* 
ing,  talking.    No  pause.) 

ELEANOR.       (Following     her.       Very     sharply) 

Nancy,  if  you  write  to  mamma (Broken.) 

NANCY.     (Gesturing  to  off  L.)     Wait,  Eleanor. 

(As  MRS.  KINNEY  and  ATHALIE  enter,  talking  L.) 

MRS.  K.  (Goes  to  L.C.  Cue  "to  mamma." 
Speaks  same  time  as  Nancy)  Where's  your  mamma, 
young  Eleanor? 

ELEANOR.  (Turns — getting  a  quick  glance  from 
NANCY,  speaks  quickly)  Maud?  I'll  find  her. 
(Exit  c.E.J 

ATHALIE.  (Comes  back  of  table  L.C.,  puts  one 
knee  upon  it.  Turning  to  MRS.  KINNEYJ  Wonder 
where's  George? 

fMRs.  KINNEY  sits  on  pier  L.  of  steps.) 

NANCY.  (Seeing  ATHALIE'S  position)  Good 
afternoon. 


THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN  65 

MRS.  K.     (Turning  and  staring)    What? 

NANCY.  ^  (Mildly)  I  hadn't  seen  you  since  lunch 
time.  I  said  good  afternoon. 

MRS.  K.     Oh,  good  afternoon. 

ATHALIE.  (Languidly  staring  at  her)  Have 
you  seen  the  view  from  the  other  end  of  the  ter 
race?  (Gesture  to  up  L.) 

NANCY.     Why,  no.    I  didn't  know (Broken.) 

ATHALIE.  (Still  staring,  still  languid)  Don't 
miss  it  any  longer.  I'm  sure  you'll  enjoy  it.  (Takes 
knee  off  table.) 

NANCY.  (Going)  Thank  you  for  telling  me. 
(Exit  L.  along  terrace.  Neither  ATHALIE  or  MRS. 
KINNEY  show  any  expression.) 

MRS.  K.     (Quietly)     Not  bad,  old  party ! 

(MAUD  enters  C.E .) 

ATHALIE.  (Same  tone)  I  fear  I  wasn't  too  sub 
tle!  (Crossing  up  to  c.) 

(MAUD  enters  C.E.  during  this.) 

MAUD.  (As  she  enters)  It's  almost  time  you 
dressed,  you  know.  (Remairis  on  terrace.) 

ATHALIE.  (Goes  to  MAUD.  With  languid  ani 
mation)  Has  George  come? 

MAUD.     (Laughing)     Look. 

("GEORGE  enters  LV  stands  LV  glances  toward  off 
up  Lj 

GEORGE.    Really.    Really.    I  can't  see  it ! 

ATHALIE.     George. 

GEORGE.  (Indifferently)  Oh,  howdy*  do.  (To 
MRS.  KINNEYJ  Howdy'  do.  (Glancing  up  off  L. 
again)  Really,  I  cannot  see  it. 

MAUD.     What's  the  matter? 


66  THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN 

GEORGE.  (Coming  to  c.  of  steps)  It's  that  Miss 
What's-her-name  from  Iowa — Ohio. 

MAUD.     (Quickly)     What  did  she  do? 

GEORGE.  (As  if  relating  an  astonishing  offence) 
She  waved  her  hand  at  me ! 

(  ATHALIE  goes  down  R.C. — sits  on  settee.) 

MRS.  K.  Athalie  just  sent  her  to  look  at  a  view 
where  there  isn't  any  view  whatever.  Now  she'll 
think  Athalie  meant  you  were  the  view. 

GEORGE.  (Going  down  L.C. — sits  R.  of  table)  I 
shouldn't  put  it  beyond  her!  She  certainly  seems 
to  think  that  the  two  brief  and  very  obnoxious  con 
versations  I've  had  with  her  have  established  the 
most  cordial  relations  between  us!  (Lights  ciga 
rette.) 

(MAUD  sits  on  rail  R.) 

MRS.  K.  What  did  she  talk  to  you  about? 

GEORGE.  About  business — and  Ohio — and  Henry 
the  Eighth. 

MRS.   K.  (Languidly)     How  revolting! 

("CYRIL  enters  C.E.     He  shows  no  further  sign  of 
intoxication.) 

CYRIL.  (As  he  enters)  Hello,  Mumsey  !  Archie 
Gore's  getting  things  ready  for  a  very  large  time 
out  on  his  boat.  7  helped  him.  (Sits  on  steps  R. 
end. ) 

MRS.  K.  (Rather  crossly — not  -very)  I  fancy 
you  did ! 

CYRIL.  (Smiling  -vaguely)  Guess  I'll  take  a  lit 
tle  nap.  (Lays  his  head  on  pier  R.  Closes  his  eyes  ) 

MRS.  K.  (Muttering)  Yes,  probably  you'd  bet 
ter! 


THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN  67 

GEORGE.  (To  himself)  Yes,  sir!  Business — 
and  Ohio  and  Henry  the  Eighth ! 

('NANCY  returns  on  terrace  from  L.J 

NANCY.  (Calling  cheerfully  back  to  up  ~L.) 
Thank  you  !  (Coming  along  terrace. — Picks  up  sew 
ing  bag  from  chair  L.  of  C.E. ) 

MAUD.  (With  easy  mischief)  Did  you  see  the 
view? 

NATHALIE  looks  at  NANCY.  J 

NANCY.  (Noticing  CYRIL  sleeping — steps  around 
him.  Genially)  Yes;  the  hydrangeas.  They're 
lovely.  (Points  this  at  ATHALIE.  Coming  down 
steps  to  c.)  And  there  was  such  a  pleasant  old 
Italian  working  in  the  garden.  (Looking  at  sewing 
bag)  I  waved  my  hand  to  him.  ^GEORGE  starts. 
Pause.) 

ATHALIE.  (Looks  at  GEORGE — then  to  NANCY,) 
Did  he  wave  at  you? 

NANCY.  (Genially)  Yes,  indeed.  He  came  and 
talked  to  me.  He  said  he'd  had  a  great  deal  of  rheu 
matism  lately—  (Broken.) 

GEORGE.  (Irritated)  My  Lord!  (Gets  up  and 
goes  R. — As  he  comes  toward  her,  ATHALIE  gets  up 
and  makes  room  for  him  on  settee.  He  ignores  her 
and  goes  to  chair  extreme  R.  and  sits.  She  puts  feet 
up  on  settee,  in  anger.) 

NANCY.  (Going  on,  accepting  the  chair  as  if  he'd 
meant  to  offer  it  to  her)  Thank  you,  Mr.  Reynolds. 
(Sits)  But  he  says  his  rheumatism's  all  gone  and 
that's  a  sign  we  won't  have  rain  for  a  week.  ( MRS. 
KINNEY  gets  up — goes  to  table  L.C. — gets  cigarette 
from  box — lights  it — picks  up  magazine — goes  up 
extreme  L. — pretends  to  read.  All  frigid.  HOWITT 
comes  unnoticed  from  C.E.,  reading  newspaper. 


68  THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN 

Stands  c.  of  terrace.  NANCY,  after  a  quiet  glance 
about,  goes  on)  I  know  it's  surprising,  but  there 
are  people  who  can  tell  about  the  weather  by  their 
symptoms.  I've  often  seen  old  John — he's  the  one 
Swede  that  could  ever  be  trusted  with  a  pair  of 

trotters  to  a  light  surrey — he  can  tell  when  rain 

(Broken.) 

(HowiTT  comes  slowly  down  steps,  reading.) 

MAUD.  (Rising  and  interrupting  in  a  hushed 
tone  which  can  bear  no  more)  I  think  I  know  what 
we  all  need  now.  (Going  up  c.E.J  We'll  have  it 
out  here.  (Rings  bell  inside  C.E.  and  remains  on 
terrace.) 

NANCY.  (Quietly  to  HOWITT,  who  Is  about  to  sit 
on  pier  L.  of  steps.  Rising)  Mr.  Howitt — is  Elea 
nor  in  her  room  ? 

HOWITT.  (Annoyed  at  interruption)  What  did 
you  say? 

NANCY.     Is  Eleanor  in  her  room? 

NATHALIE  rises — starts  to  go  to  NANCY. ) 

HOWITT.  (Rising  as  if  to  seek  some  place  where 
he  will  not  be  disturbed)  She's  coming-  out  pres 
ently,  I  believe.  (Crosses  to  settee  R.  and  sits.  Re 
sumes  reading.) 

NANCY.  Then  I  suppose  I (Broken.  Sits 

again.) 

MRS.  K.  (As  if  disturbed  and  annoyed)  Oh, 
dear  me!  (Bored  tone.) 

MAUD.  (Calling  ATHALIE  to  complete  the  snub 
and  leave  NANCY  alone  L.C.  ATHALIE  appears  to  be 
in  a  trance)  Athalie!  (MAUD  shows  a  magazine 
that  has  been  lying  on  the  terrace)  Photographs. 
George  in  fancy  dress — as  Plato.  (ATHALIE  starts 
to  go  to  NANCY  again,  MAUD  calls  again)  Athalie! 


THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN  69 

iTT  enters  with  bar-wagon  C.E.— places  it  on 
terrace  «.  of  sUfs.  Exits  ex.  MAUD  goes  to 
it — begins  muring  cocktails.) 

ATHALIE.  Thought  prossibly  Miss  Uh,  here, 
would  be  telling  us  more  about  the  weather — and 
her  Swede.  /  knew  a  woman  that  loved  a  Swede 
once.  (To  NANCY  j  Do  you  love  your  Swede? 
Perhaps  you're  too  New  to  love  Swedes.  You  ore 
frightfully  New,  aren't  you? 

NANCY.  (Knitting,  speaks  gently)  \es.  I  got 
here  this  morning. 

A.THALIE.     Perhaps  you  don't  love  anybody 
the    daytime.      (Looking    meaningly    at    GEORGE) 
Nothing  interesting  really  happens  till  after  dark. 
Don't  you  hate  afternoons? 

NANCY.  (Lightly,  absently)  Oh.  sometimes  one 
gets  a  great  deal  out  of  an  afternoon.  (Quietly, 
knitting)  I'm  certainly  getting  a  lot  out  of  this  one. 

ATHALIE,  (Curiously)  Outside,  you're  very 
prim,  Miss  Uh,  but  secretly— secretly— au  fond— 
you're  keen  on  men,  aren't  you? 

NANCY.  (Pleasantly  and  thoughtfully)  Well,  I 
met  one  man  to-day  that  I  liked. 

( GEORGE  turns  away  in  his  chair.) 

ATHALIE.  (Under  her  breath,  as  if  she  had  had 
a  rerv  serious  re-delation  made  to  her  'which  she 
might  have  foreseen)  Ah,  of  course!  Parfaite- 
ment!  (She  glances  over  at  GEORGE,  then  back  at 
NANCY,  who  goes  on  knitting  without  looking  up. 
GEORGE  shifts  consciously  and  with  annoyance  m 

his  seat.)                                                              ,  ... 

NANCY.     (Not  noticing  ATHALIE'S  remark,  still 

looking  at  her  knitting)    He  was  so  friendly!  He 
told  me  all  about  his  family. 

^GEORGE  clears  his  throat— annoyed.) 


70  THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN 

ATHALIE.  (Going  a  step  toward  GEORGE,)  Of 
course,  yes.  He  would.  (She  speaks  under  her 
breath,  seriously,  glancing  at  GEORGE.  GEORGE  is 
extremely  annoyed.  NANCY  realizes  he  thinks  it  is 
he  she  is  speaking  of.) 

NANCY.  (Continuing  after  a  very  short  pause) 
It  was  that  old  Italian  man  that  works  in  the  gar 
den.  (GEORGE  registers  this)  I  liked  him.  (Very 
gently)  He  was  so  kind. 

(GEORGE  looks  at  her  intently  on  the  word  "kind" 
HOWITT  gets  this  rap  at  GEORGE  and  smiles.) 

ATHALIE.  (After  a  short  pause  of  astonishment; 
speaking  eagerly)  Oh,  but  natural  women  don't 
like  kind  men !  (Laughs — goes  up  to  MAUD  at  ter 
race  rail  R.J  Didn't  you  fancy  my  ragging  her? 

MRS.  K.  (Crossing  to  HOWITT  R.C. — throwing 
magazine  on  terrace  rail  as  she  goes)  I  say — when's 
that  stunnin'  little  brooch  from  Stromberg's  comin' 
for  Maud?  (Voice  loud  and  careless.  GEORGE  gets 
up — goes  up  R. — back  of  settee  to  steps  and  up  on 
terrace  to  bar-wagon.) 

HOWITT.  Stromberg's  promised  it  for  Monday. 
They're  putting  on  a  stronger  catch. 

MRS.  K.  I  wanted  it  myself  but  dividends  are  too 
short.  Eleanor  must  have  a  money-tree ! 

(NANCY   has  looked  over,   taking   this  in   keenly. 
MAUD  notes  this  and  frowns  at  HOWITT.) 

HOWITT.  (Annoyed,  noting  NANCY,)  It's  noth 
ing  to  speak  of.  ( NANCY  rises  and  goes  L.  Presses 
MRS.  KINNEY'S  hand  warningly)  Sh!  (MRS.  KIN- 
NEY  glances  at  NANCY  and  understands.  She  goes 
up  to  rail  R.  MAUD,  who  has  finished  mixing  the 
cocktails,  now  begins  to  move  the  shaker  sharply.) 


THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN  71 

(At  the  sound  of  the  ice  in  the  shaker,  CYRIL,  who 
has  been  sound  asleep  throughout,  does  not 
wake  at  once,  but  lifts  one  arm  and  lets  it  drop 
again  upon  his  breast.  As  the  shaker  contin 
ues,  he  turns  over.  Then  he  sits  w/>  quickly  and 
swings  round  to  front  again,  looking  at  it  du 
biously,  while  the  others  get  theirs.  He  looks 
around  at  the  others  then,  and  referring  to  his 
cocktail,  says  solemnly:) 

CYRIL.  It's  an  even  shot  what's  going  to  'happen 
now !  ( CYRIL  summons  his  facilities  and  drinks  the 
cocktail,  then  he  looks  around  and  seems  to  see  MRS. 
KINNEY  for  the  first  time.  Speaks  in  a  loud,  hearty 
voice)  Why,  there's  dear  old  mumsey ! 

NATHALIE  gets  drink — goes  down  to  Ho  WITT  on 
settee  and  gives  him  one.) 

MRS.  K.  (Coldly.  Going  to  CYRIL  R.  of  steps) 
You'll  go  the  way  your  silly  old  father  did ! 

CYRIL.  Well,  he  liked  it!  (Drinks— then  sitf 
again.) 

('GEORGE  crosses  stiffly  to  NANCY,  carrying  a  cock 
tail  to  her.) 

GEORGE.  (Offering  the  cocktail)  Ah — ah,  Miss 
Price? 

('MRS.  KINNEY  goes  up  steps  to  bar-wagon.  Ho  WITT 
and  ATHALIE  finish  drinks  and  put  empty 
glasses  on  table  back  of  settee.  MAUD  and 
ATHALIE  turn  to  look  at  this  sourly.) 

NANCY.  (With  a  little  quick  glance  at  him,  drop 
ping  her  eyes  as  she  shakes  her  head.  Speaking 
pleasantly)  No,  thank  you.  I  don't  care  for  any, 


72  THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN 

(Goes  up  L.  Drops  sewing  bag  in  chair  L.  GEORGE 
backs  up  stage.) 

MAUD.     Very  curious  thing  to  do,  George! 

ATHALIE.  ( Back  of  settee  R.C .)  I  never  saw  you 
take  that  much  trouble  for  anybody  before,  Mon 
sieur  ! 

^GEORGE  turns  away  L.    CYRIL  puts  empty  glass  on 
bar-ivagon.    ELEANOR  enters  C.E.) 

GEORGE.  Here's  one  nobody  seems  to  want. 
('CYRIL  starts  up  to  take  it.  GEORGE  sees  ELEANOR 
in  C.E.)  Eleanor,  you're  just  in  time  for  it. 

NANCY.  Eleanor!  ( ELEANOR  about  to  take  it 
from  him — stops  at  sound  of  her  voice.  Crosses  to 
NANCY — R.  of  table.  NANCY  is  L.  of  table.  She  has 
become  serious.  Speaks  in  a  low  but  clear  voice) 
Eleanor,  you  don't  want  that ! 

('ELEANOR  sits  in  chair  R.  of  table.) 

GEORGE.  (Offended — to  NANCYJ  You  mean  / 
shouldn't  give  it  to  her  ? 

NANCY.     I  mean  she  shouldn't  take  it. 

GEORGE.  Good  Heavens!  I'm  not  a  corrupter 
of  youth!  (All  have  turned  to  look  at  the  three. 
The  situation  becomes  a  disagreeable  little  "scene." ) 

MAUD.  (Stepping  down  from  terrace  to  c. 
Quickly  on  GEORGE'S  speech)  What  is  the  disturb 
ance?  Doesn't  Eleanor  like  the  cocktails?  And  I 
thought  I  was  such  a  good  mixer !  (Comes  c.) 

^ELEANOR  takes  glass  out  of  GEORGE'S  hand.) 
NANCY.     Eleanor ! 

('GEORGE  drops  back  of  table.) 


THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN  73 

MAUD.  (To  NANCY,  affecting  good-nature) 
Dear  me,  Miss  Price,  is  it  you  criticizing  my  cock 
tails? 

NANCY.     (Quietly)    No.    I'm  not — criticizing. 

MAUD.  But  really,  don't  you  suppose  Eleanor's 
old  enough  to  know  what  she  likes  ? 

NANCY.     (Softly)    No. 

MAUD.  (Laughing,  but  with  feeling  beneath. 
I'm  afraid  you  don't  understand ;  her  father's  right 
here.  (Turning  to  HOWITT^  We  might  let  him 
have  a  word,  mightn't  we? 

("MRS.  KINNEY  and  CYRIL  on  terrace  watching  this 
scene.) 

HOWITT.  (Patronizingly.  Rises — takes  a  step  L .) 
I've  no  doubt  Miss  Price  has  very  g-ood  intentions ; 
but  Eleanor's  life  now  is  not  the  life  of  a  little  coun 
try  town. 

MAUD.  Does  seem  to  be  a  lot  of  ado  over  noth 
ing!  (With  affected  laughing  good-nature)  Elea 
nor's  no  novice.  (To  ELEANOR,)  Afraid  of  what 
the  Ladies'  Teetotal  Backwoods  Sewing  Circle  will 
say,  Eleanor?  (Gesture  toward  the  cocktail)  Don't 
be  silly ! 

("ELEANOR  lifts  her  glass  to  her  lips  and  drinks  half 
the  cocktail.    GEORGE  goes  to  extreme  L.) 

NANCY.  (Reaching  for  glass  as  she  drinks  it. 
Sadly)  Eleanor  ?  (Her  tone  is  questioning.  ELEA 
NOR  looks  back  at  the  glass  as  if  thoughtfully  de* 
bating  whether  she  should  finish  it.  She  sets  the 
glass  down.  MAUD  laughs,  puts  one  arm  around 
her.) 

CYRIL.  (Taking  another  cocktail)  There's  noth 
ing  like  an  afternoon  tea ! 

MAUD.     (Briskly,  going  up  to  steps)    I  suppose 


74  THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN 

you  know  that  most  of  this  fine  little  party  is  ex 
pected  to  dine  on  Archie  Gore's  yacht.  Going  to 
wear  your  riding  breeches,  girls  ?  Come  on ! 

MRS.  K.     (Going  in  C.E.)    Take  us  no  time  at  all ! 

(Exeunt  C.E.  MRS.  KINNEY,  MAUD,  ATHALIE,  and 
CYRIL.  ELEANOR  rises — starts  to  follow  them 
— HOWITT  goes  up  to  R.  of  steps.  NANCY  fol 
lows  ELEANOR  up.  GEORGE  goes  down  L.  of 
table.) 

NANCY.     Eleanor,  will  you  wait  a  minute? 

ELEANOR.     I'm  afraid  not,  Nancy. 

NANCY.  Won't  you,  please?  (She  tries  to  stop 
her.) 

HOWITT.  (Putting  arm  around  ELEANOR,  goes  up 
steps)  I'm  sure  you  won't  mind  our  leaving  you. 

(Exeunt  R.  ELEANOR  and  HOWITT  C.E.  NANCY  goes 
up  steps  slowly  and  looks  after  them.  GEORGE 
perplexed  and  frowning.) 

GEORGE.  (In  an  annoyed  tone)  Do  you  mind 
sparing  me  a  moment,  Miss  Price? 

(She  turns,  apparently  surprised  to  see  him.) 

NANCY.     (On  top  step)    No,  I  don't  mind. 

GEORGE.  Of  course,  one  doesn't  ordinarily  notice 
every  little  annoyance,  but,  still,  when  one's  harassed 

by  an  attack  such  as  you  made  upon  me 

(^NANCY  gives  him  a  look.  In  a  tone  of  cross  and 
plaintive  protest)  I  mean  this  cocktail  thing.  I'd 
like  to  say  that  I'm  not  in  the  habit  of  forcing  drinks 
upon  infants  and  children.  Just  before  that,  you 
implied  that  an  Italian  gardener  was  the  only  per 
son  on  the  whole  place  who  knew  what  good  man 
ners  were.  (Turns  away — he  is  grieved,  angry  and 


THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN  75 

in  'earnest)  Is  it  your  idea  that  that's  any  way  to 
go  about  making  a  hit  with  a  man  ? 

NANCY.     (Gravely)    No. 

GEORGE.  (Hotly)  Then  what  did  you  want  to  do 
it  for? 

NANCY.  (Coming  down  to  back  of  chair  R.  of 
table  L.C.  Shaking  her  head  wonderingly)  Mr. 
Reynolds,  it's  been  quite  an  experience  for  me  to 
meet  you. 

GEORGE.  (Suspiciously)  What  do  you  mean? 
(Steps  to  her.) 

NANCY.  I  never  met  a  man  before  that  owned  up 
that  he  couldn't  imagine  a  girl  having  any  interest  in 
life  except  to  make  a  hit  with  him ! 

GEORGE.  (Flustered)  Miss  Price,  I've  been  no 
ticing  you.  In  fact,  I  begin  to  realize  that,  of  course, 
you're  not  used  to  men  like  me,  and 

NANCY.  Well — almost.  One  of  our  drug-clerks 
at  home  has  just  the  same  symptoms  about  girls 
making  hits  with  him. 

GEORGE.  (Incredulously.  Backs  aivay  slowly — 
in  amazement  and  disgust)  Do  I  remind  you  of  a 
drug-clerk?  Of  an  Ohio  drug-clerk? 

NANCY.     Oh,  of  course,  there's  a  difference. 

GEORGE.  (With  superiority  and  sarcasm)  Just 
possibly,  I  hope ! 

NANCY.  Yes,  he'd  think  just  the  same  thing,  but 
he  wouldn't  have  owned  up  to  it. 

GEORGE.  (Nettled)  That  is  to  say,  you  think 
I'm  the  most  conceited  man  in  the  whole  wide 
world  ? 

NANCY.  Indeed  I  don't!  (Then,  with  a  genial 
laugh)  I  haven't  traveled  enough  to  say  that ! 

GEORGE.  Perhaps  it's  that  same  silly  old  idea. 
We  city  people  are  all  a  wicked  lot,  but  you  and 
your  simple  village  folk  are  all  sweet  and  pure  and 
noble! 

NANCY.    Oh,  my,  no !    You  ought  to  see  some  of 


;6  THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN 

the  riff-raff  we've  got!     (Goes  R.  to  settee.     Very 
slight  emphasis  on  "we"  Lights  begin  to  grow  dim.) 

LIGHTS 

GEORGE.  (In  amazement — quickly,  and  with  feel 
ing)  All  because  I  was  civil  enough  to  hand  a  girl 
a  cocktail? 

NANCY.  (As  if  excusing  him)  Well — of  course, 
all  that  depends  0:1 — the  way  a  person's  brought  up. 

GEORGE.  (Testily)  And  I  suppose  I've  been 
"brought  up"  badly  because  I  have  "third"  after 
my  name. 

NANCY.  (Going  to  c.  With  apparently  impul 
sive  pity)  Oh,  nobody  can  criticize  you  for  that! 
If  your  parents  wanted  you  to  have  your  name  that 
way — and  you  don't  mind — why,  that  isn't  anybody 
else's  business ! 

GEORGE.  (With  some  bitterness)  And  I  suppose 
I've  been  "brought  up"  badly  because  the  crowd 
snubbed  you  a  while  ago!  I  suppose  you  lump  us 
together,  do  you? 

NANCY.     (Agreeing)    Well,  aren't  you  ? 

GEORGE.  (Challengingly)  Well,  we  think  we're 
about  the  right  sort ! 

NANCY.  (Takes  a  step  to  him.  Slowly  and  won- 
deringly)  You  certainly  do !  (Slowly)  I'm  sure — 
(Then  quickly) — I'm  sure  you  all  feel  that  you're — 
"people  of  distinction !" 

GEORGE.     That  bothers  you,  does  it? 

NANCY.     It  doesn't  bother  me ;  it  just  puzzles  me ! 

GEORGE.  (With  curiosity)  Then,  generations  of 
position,  ancestry  and — ah — income  mean  nothing  at 
all  to  you  ? 

NANCY.  (Crossing  to  table.  Thoughtfully,  smil 
ing  faintly)  But — well,  the  "income"  part  of  it 
wouldn't  count  with  a  stranger  much,  would  it?  Be 
cause  you  can't  carry  a  great  deal  around  with  you 


THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN  77 

— and  you  can't  carry  any  ancestors  at  all  around 
with  you — so,  doesn't  it  seem  as  if,  when  you  meet  a 
stranger,  you  wouldn't  have  any  position  till  you 
made  it?  Really,  meeting-  a  stranger  seems  to  be  a 
pretty  good  test,  doesn't  it  ? 

GEORGE.     You  mean  you're  a  stranger  ? 

NANCY.  I  mean  that  all  you  can  show  a  stranger 
is  what  you  are. 

GEORGE.  (Facing  front)  I  see !  (Pause)  And 
the  last  thing  about  me  that  you  don't  like  is  what  I 
am!  (Speaks  with  an  undercurrent  of  injured  dig 
nity.) 

NANCY.  Ah,  but  I  don't  know  what  you  are !  It 
seems  to  me  that  I've  only  seen  the  things  you  aren't! 

GEORGE.  (Looks  at  her)  What — what  makes 
you  think  that? 

NANCY.  (Half -lightly)  Because  I  don't  believe 
that  any  real  man  could  be  so  heavenly  a  snob  as 
you  seem  to  be.  It  must  be  a  pose ! 

GEORGE.  (Haughtily.  Goes  front  of  table  and  up 
c.  to  steps — she  watches  him  till  he  goes  up  steps — 
then  she  crosses  R.)  Thank  you !  (On  steps)  Miss 
Price.  (She  turns)  When  those  women  were  treat 
ing  you  as  they  did,  I  felt  a  little  sorry  for  you.  I 
began  to  think  perhaps  we  were  all  wrong  and  you 
were  all  right.  You've  shown  me  that  was  a  mis 
take.  (Quickly,  on  this,  ELEANOR  appears  in  C.E.) 
In  all  my  life  no  woman  has  ever  spoken  to  me  as 
you  just  did!  I  shall  not,  in  any  manner,  further 
trouble  you.  And  so 

NANCY.  (Pleasantly)  Come  here,  Eleanor! 
('ELEANOR  comes  in.  NANCY  goes  up  to  her  as  she 
comes  down  steps.  To  GEORGE j  What  were  you 
saying,  Mr.  Reynolds? 

GEORGE.  (Coldly)  I  said,  and  so — and  so,  good 
afternoon!  (Turns — goes  along  terrace — exits. 
NANCY  looks  after  him  gravely.) 

ELEANOR.     Have  you  been  making  more  breaks  ? 


78  THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN 

NANCY.  (Leans  back  against  pier  R.  of  steps. 
Kindly)  I  don't  think  you  need  worry,  dear. 

ELEANOR.  (Crosses  down  to  table  L.C.  and  sits  R. 
of  it.  Troubled)  I  worried  so  much  that  papa 
thought  he'd  better  let  me  come  and  talk  to  you. 
Nancy !  (In  a  despairing  tone)  That  awful  scene 
you  made  over  that  cocktail !  Papa  and  I  just  found 
out  that  you'd  been  asking  the  chauffeur  about  his 
wages ;  and  you  asked  the  gardener  how  many  men 
we  had  working  on  the  place.  Papa  said  he  didn't 
object  if  I  asked  you  what  right  you  had  to  go  pry 
ing  around  like  that ! 

(Light  begins  to  be  fainter.) 

NANCY.  (Looking  at  her,  thoughtfully)  I'm  glad 
he  didn't  object,  dear.  (Going  to  back  of  ELEA 
NOR'S  chair)  I  heard  Mrs.  Kinney  speaking  of  a 
present  for  Mrs.  Howitt. 

ELEANOR.  (Defiantly)  Certainly  I'm  giving 
Maud  a  present.  It's  nothing  but  a  brooch.  Why 
shouldn't  I? 

NANCY.  I  don't  know  that  you  shouldn't.  It 
depends  on  the  cost. 

ELEANOR.  (Decidedly)  Maud  wouldn't  accept 
anything  that  cost  too  much!  (Crisply)  Besides, 
it's  already  paid  for. 

NANCY.  (Comes  down  around  her  chair  to  R.  of 
her)  How  much  was  it? 

ELEANOR.  (Indifferently)  I  don't  know  ex 
actly. 

NANCY.  (Smilingly)  How  can  that  be  if  you 
paid  for  it? 

ELEANOR.     I  gave  papa  a  check. 

NANCY.  (Going  R.  a  few  steps)  But  how  much 
was  the  check  for? 

ELEANOR.  (Impatiently)  I  told  you  I  just  gave 
him  a  check !  ^NANCY  turns  on  her  in  surprise)  I 


THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN  79 

just  wrote :  "Pay  to  the  Stromberg  Company"  and 
signed  my  name.  Papa  said  he'd  fill  in  the  rest 
when  he  found  out  just  how  much  it  was  going-  to 
be. 

NANCY.  (Going  to  her.  Startled)  Eleanor! 
You  mustn't  do  such  things ! 

ELEANOR.  I  will !  I  want  to  make  Maud  a  hand 
some  present.  (Rises)  I'd  do  it  even  if  it  came  to 
a  thousand  dollars ! 

NANCY.  (Putting  hands  on  her  shoulders)  Elea 
nor — you  don't  understand (Broken.) 

ELEANOR.  I  will !  I'll  make  presents  any  time  I 
feel  like  it !  Would  you  try  to  interfere  in  a  thing 
like  this?  (Threatening.) 

NANCY.     Why,  I  might  have  to  interfere. 

ELEANOR.  (Crossing  to  R.cJ  Oh,  you're  spoil 
ing  things !  (Turns)  You'll  queer  yourself  with 
everybody !  ^ELEANOR,  looking  at  her  peevishly) 
Don't  you  see  that  my  life  can  never  again  be  that 
monotonous,  gray  life  it  used  to  be  out  there  with 
mamma  ? 

VICTROLA  WARNING 

NANCY.  (Speaks  slowly  and  gently)  Yes,  it's 
pretty  monotonous  and  gray  for  her.  (^ELEANOR 
goes  slowly  to  settee  as  NANCY  goes  up  steps)  She 
misses  you,  Eleanor. 

( ELEANOR  sits  on  settee.) 

ELEANOR.  The  most  exciting  thing  we  ever  did 
was  sit  out  on  the  porch  in  the  evening — and  watch 
the  lightning-bugs ! — When  they  went  out,  all  the  ex 
citement  in  town  was  over ! — I  can't  keep  thinking  of 
mamma  all  the  time  I'm  with  papa ! 

Amber  foots  and  borders  out — LIGHTS 


8o  THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN 

f  NANCY  goes  into  house  through  C.E.  to  piano.  Then, 
very  quietly,  she  begins  to  play;  and  she  sings 
the  song  "Absent") 

SONG. 

"Ah,  sometimes,  in  the  twilight  gloom  apart, 
The  tall  trees  whisper,  whisper  heart  to  heart, 
From  my  fond  lips  the  eager  answers  fall, 
Thinking  I  hear  thee,  thinking  I  hear  thee  call!" 

(As  NANCY  sings,  ELEANOR  faces  front — thinking 
of  home — grows  a  little  sad — turns  toward  C.E. 
— rises — goes  slowly  up  c.  to  pier  R.  of  steps — 
stops — looks  back — goes  up  steps — sees  GEORGE 
coming — exits  C.E.  GEORGE  appears  quietly  and 
thoughtfully.  He  leans  against  the  R.  side  of 
the  doorway.  He  has  come  from  terrace  up  L.) 

GEORGE.  (Quietly,  and  a  little  huskily,  looking 
in  C.E.,  only  turning  his  head  to  speak)  Will  you 
sing  the  second  verse,  Miss  Price? 

NANCY.     (Off) 

"Sometimes,  between  ,ong  shadows  on  the  grass, 
The  little  truant  waves  of  sunlight  pass. 
My  eyes  grow  dim  with  tenderness  the  while, 
Thinking  I  see  thee,  thinking  I  see  thee  smile!" 

(At  the  beginning  of  the  second  line  of  the  song, 
MAUD,  off  L.U.E.  and  unseen,  bursts  into  irre 
pressible,  loud  laughter.  NANCY'S  song  stops 
abruptly  and  her  startled  fingers  sound  a  loud, 
sharp  discord  upon  the  keys,  playing  no  more.) 

MAUD.  (Rushing  in  L.U.E.  along  terrace,  cackling, 
hand  over  mouth — she  is  in  evening  dress)  I  did 
wonder  who  in  this  house  could  be  pulling  that  senti 
mental  slush  !  (VICTROLA.  Victrola  plays  "Den- 
goze" )  Georgie !  You  are  a  devil !  Stringing  this 


THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN  81 

poor  little  Miss  Price  into  singing  her  Sunday  night 
melodeon  repertoire ! 

GEORGE.  (Trying  to  protest)  But,  Maud,  I 

(Broken.) 

MAUD.  (Laughing  violently)  Oh,  you  kidder ! 
(NANCY  comes  in  C.E.  In  an  ecstacy  of  mirth) 
Good  Lord  !  She  heard  us ! 

GEORGE.  (Desperately,  to  NANCY,  who  gives  him 
a  steady  look  of  contempt  and  goes  dozvn  steps  to 
extreme  R.J  Miss  Price,  I 

MAUD.  (Going  into  house.  Calling  jovially) 
Athalie,  you'd  better  come  and  save  George  from 
having  his  eyes  scratched  out! 

ATHALIE.  (Rushing  out,  dressed  for  the  eve 
ning)  George,  take  me !  (Tries  to  make  him  dance; 
flings  herself  at  him.  He  throws  her  off.) 

(CYRIL  follows,  in  evening  clothes,  singing  the  dance- 
tune  loudly;  he  goes  down  steps  to  c.,  turns — 
calls — "Come  on,  ATHALIE."  She  leaps  down 
steps  and  into  his  arms — they  dance  down  R. — 
GEORGE  exits  C.E.  HOWITT  and  MRS.  KINNEY, 
in  evening  clothes,  dance  out  of  C.E.  and  down 
steps,  going  L. — GORE  enters  in  yachting  clothes 
— speaking  as  he  comes  down  c. — MAUD  comes 
in  C.E. — on  to  terrace  C.E. ) 

GORE.  (Shouting)  Got  the  romp  all  begun,  have 
you  ?  (MAUD  sings;  all  singing  with  words  "Ta,  da, 
te,  da,  da,"  etc.  Stopping)  Get  your  wraps  on! 
I've  got  things  on  ice  out  on  the  boat !  I've  got 

CYRIL.  (Shouting.  Dances  up  stage  and  off  C.E.) 
Oh,  bubbles ! 

GORE.  (No  pause  for  CYRIL)  I've  got  five  nig 
gers  to  play  for  you  to  dance !  (CYRIL  repeats  this 
until  his  exit.  GORE  goes  on  without  stopping)  Go 
on,  now  !  Wraps !  Stan,  get  your  cars  around. 

STOP  VICTROLA 


82  THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN 

(All  except  MAUD,  GORE  and  NANCY  go  off  C.E. 
NANCY'S  back  is  toward  GORE.     He  shouts  to 
her.) 
Here,  go  get  your  duds  on  ! 

(^NANCY  turns,  looking  at  him,  a  little  frightened.) 

MAUD.  (Coming  down  steps  to  c.  Sharply) 
Archie!  You  forgot! 

GORE.  (Boisterously)  She's  not  half  bad! 
What's  the  matter  her  comin'  aboard  my  boat  for 
the  party  ?  She's  the  kind  I  like  to  have  aboard ! 

MAUD.  (Angry)  You  certainly  have  been 
aboard  your  boat ! 

GORE.  (Laughing)  What's  the  difference,  long 
as  she's  in  harbor?  (As  NANCY  starts  to  go  around 
back  of  settee  to  R.C .)  Here !  Wait ! 

MAUD.  (Down  c. — sharply)  Archie,  this  is  my 
party,  isn't  it? 

GORE.     (Promptly)    Why,  yes. 

MAUD.  (Quickly)  Then  this  young  lady  isn't 
invited.  (Smiling  and  affecting  a  friendly  man 
ner)  She's  been  traveling  and  she's  too  tired. 
(Laughing — goes  up  steps.) 

GORE.  (Smiling  and  shaking  his  head  to  NANCY,) 
Sorry !  (Turns — runs  up  steps  and  into  house — 
going  L.J 

(^ELEANOR  appears^  C.E.,  wearing  light  wrap.    Comes 
down.) 

ELEANOR.    I'm  ready. 

NANCY.  (Going  up  to  ELEANOR.  In  a  troubled 
voice)  Eleanor,  just  let  us  two  not  go ! 

MAUD.  (Quickly,  gaily,  speaking  to  ELEANOR,) 
I've  just  ruled  that  Miss  Price  is  too  tired  to  go. 

NANCY.  (In  a  troubled  voice)  Oh,  no,  I'm  not, 
if  Eleanor  goes. 


THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN  83 

MAUD.  (Laughing  triumphantly — pulling  ELEA 
NOR  away.  To  NANCY )  Oh,  yes,  you  are!  We 
won't  let  you  into  the  motor !  You're  going-  to  stay 
and  rest.  (As  she  goes  off  C.E.,  calling  back  from 
off-stage)  Come  on,  Eleanor!  It's  Liberty  Hall 
to-night!  (Exits — laughs  off-stage  up  Lj 

('ELEANOR  starts  to  follow  her.) 

NANCY.  (Up  to  her — stops  her)  Eleanor, 
please!  Just  stay  here  with  me  this  evening. 
(Pleadingly)  Don't  go! 

(Romping  and  shouting  heard  off  up  L.J 

CYRIL.  (Off  up  LV  bellowing)  All  ready  for  the 
big  show ! 

(Voices  off-stage  repeat  this.) 

ELEANOR.  Maud's  right:  you  wouldn't  enjoy  it 
— and  if  you  want  me  to  be  frank,  nobody  else  would 
either!  (Trying  to  break  away.) 

NANCY.    (Quickly)    She  said  that  to  you ! 

ELEANOR.  Tell  the  butler  when  you  want  dinner. 
(Runs  into  house.) 

(Voices  heard  singing  "Liberty  Hall"  off-stage  as 
she  exits.  MAUD,  with  MRS.  KINNEY,  CYRIL, 
HOWITT  and  ATHALIE,  the  three  women  wear 
ing  light  wraps,  the  men  in  light  coats,  come 
running  in  C.E.  in  line,  holding  one  another's 
coattaus — ELEANOR  leading. — All  singing:  "Lib 
erty  Hall  to-night — to-night — to-night — Lib 
erty  Hall  to-night — to-night — to-night — to 
night."  Keeping  step — they  go  down  steps  to  c. 
— turn  L. — go  down  around  table  and  exit  L. 
2nd  entrance — repeating  song  as  they  go.) 

(All  lights  remain  set  as  they  are  till  finish.) 

LIGHTS 


84  THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN 

(No  pause  in  action.  All  this  very  brief,  leaving 
NANCY  on  the  stage  alone,  looking  after  them, 
with  grave  trouble.  Shouting  and  singing  of  the 
dance-tune  is  immediately  heard  off  L.  The 
noise  dies  out  for  a  moment,  and  is  heard  much 
more  faintly  with  an  echo  of  the  tune,  sung  off 
L.  NANCY  crosses  quickly  and  looks  off  L.  The 
noise  dies  out.  She  crosses  slowly  and  exits 
C.E.,  her  head  bent.  Sunset  light-up  has  deep 
ened;  the  stage  has  grown  somewhat  darker 
since  the  departure  of  the  yachting  party.  Si 
lence  for  a  moment.  A  middle-aged  man, 
BLAKE,  dressed  in  a  dark  sack-suit,  black  shoes, 
black  derby  hat,  appears  up  of  gate  up  R.  En 
ters  gate  U.R. — comes  to  c. — Hearing  noise  of 
party  in  the  distance — goes  L. — looks  off  a  mo 
ment — turns  back  to  house  and  is  going  up  steps 
as  NANCY  comes  out  of  C.E.) 

NANCY.     What — do  you  want  ? 

BLAKE.  (Slightly  nervous.  Backs  down  steps) 
I — I  beg-  your  pardon.  I'm  a  messenger. 

NANCY.     From  whom? 

BLAKE.  I  beg  your  pardon,  but  Mr.  Howitt  is 
the  only  one  I  know  here.  Is  he (Broken.) 

NANCY.  (Suspiciously)  Mr.  Howitt  is  not  at 
home.  I'm  alone  here  with  the  servants — but  there 
plenty  of  them. 

BLAKE.  (Somewhat  resentful)  I'm  not  a  burg 
lar,  madam !  I'm  from  Stromberg's. 

NANCY.  (Remembering)  With  a  brooch?  (Con 
trolling  a  slight  excitement.) 

BLAKE.  (Stiffly)  Certainly,  madam.  And  a 
sneak-thief  might  have  a  brooch  on  him,  but  he 
wouldn't  be  very  anxious  to  turn  it  over  on  receipt. 

NANCY.  Mr.  Howitt  said  the  clasp  wouldn't  be 
ready  until  Monday.  (Her  tone  is  suspicious.) 

BLAKE.     (Smiling)     Mr.  Stromberg  prides  him- 


THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN  85 

self  on  being-  a  little  ahead  with  deliveries,  when  he 
can ;  and  Mr.  Howitt  was  anxious  to  get  it  as  soon 
as  possible.  (Takes  packet  from  pocket.  Going  to 
table  L.C.J  I  think  it  will  convince  you  that  I  am  a 
respectable  man. 

WARNING.    YACHT  MUSIC 

NANCY.  (Coming  down  steps.  Goes  R.C.  With 
a  slight  re-echo  of  suspicion)  Yes — if  it  is  the 
brooch. 

BLAKE.  (Starting  to  open  the  packet)  We  can 
easily  settle  that.  And  Mr.  Stromberg  was  pretty 
sure  that  you'd  all  be  very  much  pleased. 

( PRUITT  enters  C.E.,  halts  just  R.  of  entrance,  for 
only  a  moment,  looking  at  NANCY  and  BLAKE. 
BLAKE  stops  opening  the  package  and  looks  ner 
vously  from  NANCY  to  the  servant.) 

PRUITT.  I  beg  pardon,  madam.  Both  chauffeurs 
have  come  back  from  the  dock  and  they  say  Mr. 
Howitt  f  org-ot  to  tell  them  what  time  to  return  there. 
May  I  ask,  did  Mr.  Howitt  mention  what  time  he  ex 
pected  to  get  back  ? 

NANCY.     No ;  he  didn't  say  anything  about  it. 

PRUITT.  Thank  you,  madam!  What  time  shall 
I  serve  dinner? 

NANCY.     Whenever  it's  ready. 

PRUITT.     Thank  you,  madam.    (Exits  C.E.) 

BLAKE.  (He  has  been  looking  keenly  from 
PRUITT  to  NANCY  and  back,  and  now  smiles  as  he 
opens  the  inner  case,  which  was  contained  in  the 
packet,  and  discloses  the  brooch)  There!  A  man 
that's  trusted  to  bring  a  twenty-five-thousand-dollar 
pin  would  hardly  be  slipping  in  to  steal  your  hus 
band's  overcoat,  would  he,  ma'am?  ( NANCY  is 
stunned.  For  a  moment  she  does  not  move.  Then 
slowly,  her  eyes  fall  from  BLAKE'S  face  to  the 


86  THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN 

brooch.  BLAKE  smiles  upon  her.  Benevolently,  in 
terpreting  her  emotion)  It  is  rich,  isn't  it,  ma'am? 
(Taking  an  unsealed  envelope  from  his  pocket,  and 
therefrom  a  billhead,  and  laying  it,  unfolded,  beside 
the  jewel-case  upon  the  table.  Speaking  briskly) 
There's  our  receipt  for  the  check  Mr.  Howitt  sent, 
ma'am.  And  here's  your  receipt  to  us  for  the  brooch. 
(Crossing  back  of  her  to  L.cJ  If  you'll  please  sign 
it.  (Offers  her  a  black  blank-book  and  his  foun 
tain-pen.  NANCY  stands,  with  parted  lips,  looking 
at  him  for  one  moment.  Then,  with  a  gesture  of  de 
cision,  she  takes  the  pen  and  writes  quickly,  then  re 
turns  the  pen  and  book  to  him.  He  has  taken  a 
small  blotter  from  his  pocket  and  quickly  blots  her 
writing)  Thank  you,  Mrs.  Howitt.  (Turns  toward 
R.U.E.  and  taking  his  hat.  Then  turns  again  to 
NANCY.  Going  up  R.,  benevolently)  I  imagine  you 
don't  think  I'm  a  burglar  now! 

NANCY.     (Slowly)    No. 

BLAKE.  (At  R.U.E.,  with  feeling)  Good  night, 
Mrs.  Howitt. 

NANCY.     (In  a  loiv  voice)    Good  night. 

(Exit  BLAKE  gate  R.  NANCY  slowly  turns  her  head 
to  stare  at  the  brooch  again.  She  closes  the  case 
mechanically  and  with  both  hands,  gathers  case, 
wrappings  and  receipt  together,  stares  at  them, 
then,  with  quick  decisiveness,  she  places  them 
in  her  sezving-bag;  she  stands  for  a  moment 
staring  front,  in  deep  thought.  From  up  off  R. 
and  very  distant,  come  yacht  music,  the  faint 
sounds  of  the  "Dengozo"  music  played  by  vic- 
trola.  Carrying  the  sewing-bag  under  her  arm, 
NANCY  crosses  to  L.  and  stands  looking  out  into 
the  darkness  in  the  direction  of  the  music. 
PRUITT  appears.) 

CURTAIN  WARNING 


THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN  87 

PRUITT.  (At  c.  of  top  step)  Dinner  will  be 
ready  in  about  ten  minutes,  madam!  (Takes  tray 
from  bar-wagon.  After  a  look  off  L.U.E.  listens  to 
music  a  second)  You  can  hear  the  music  from  Mr. 
Gore's  yacht  quite  plain  across  the  water,  can't  you, 
madam?  (Going  down  steps  to  c.)  Beg  pardon, 
madam,  can  you  see  Mr.  Reynolds? 

NANCY.     (In  a  dazed  voice)    What? 

PRUITT.  (Turning  toward  her,  deferentially, 
amused  at  her  thought)  Oh,  I  didn't  mean  on  the 
yacht,  madam.  That  would  be  asking  for  good  eye 
sight.  Mr.  Reynolds  didn't  go  with  Mr.  Gore's 
party.  He's  here  somewhere.  He  asked  me  to  let 
him  know  when  dinner  was  ready.  There'll  only  be 
you  and  Mr.  Reynolds  at  table,  madam — (With  a 
confidential  semi-laugh) — and  he  did  seem  anxious 
to  know  how  you'd  feel  about  that. 

NANCY.  Oh,  did  he?  I'll  be  down  in  ten  min 
utes.  (She  sweeps  up  to  steps,  going  to  exit.) 

PRUITT.  (Backs  away — making  room  for  her  to 
go  up  steps)  In  fact,  Mr.  Reynolds  asked  me  to  re 
member  the  exact  words  you  used.  (It  is  this  speech 
of  his  which  halts  her  c.E.J 

NANCY.  (Furious,  but  controlled)  Very  well ! 
Do  you  think  Mr.  Reynolds  knows  whether  it  was 
Iowa  or  Ohio  that  General  William  Tecumseh  Sher 
man  came  from?  Do  you  suppose  he  knows  what 
General  Sherman  said —  (Broken.) 

PRUITT.  (A  little  rattled,  but  polite)  I  could  see 
about  it,  madam.  He's  just  yonder.  (Starting  to 
go  up  steps.) 

NANCY.       (Furiously)       No!       I'll     tell     him! 

(Turns  to  C.E.,  apparently  seeing  GEORGE.  PRUITT 
goes  to  table  R.C.,  puts  empty  glasses  on  tray. 
After  a  moment  GEORGE  appears  at  C.E.) 

GEORGE.     (As  he  enters,  blankly)    She  told  me 


88  THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN 

what  she  thought  about  having  dinner  with  me  was 

the  same  that  General  Sherman  thought  about 

(Checks  himself,  remembering  that  PRUITT  is  not  a 
confidant)  Pruitt,  what  was  that  thing  General 
Sherman  said  about  war? 

PRUITT.  (Making  hasty  exit  with  tray)  Oh, 
that.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  sir,  General  Sherman 
denied  ever  having  said  it  at  all!  (Turns  and  ex 
its  Rj 

MEDIUM  FAST  CURTAIN 
Playing  time: — 47  minutes. 


ACT    III 

SCENE:  After  dinner  the  same  evening.  Interior. 
Room  looking  out  on  terrace;  French  windows. 
Cheerfully  lighted.  It  is  entirely  dark  out  of 
doors.  NANCY  stands  in  C.E. — looking  off.  She 
wears  a  handsome  and  becoming  evening  dress, 
well  in  the  style.  She  carries  her  sewing-bag. 
A  moment  later,  PRUITT  enters  with  a  tray  on 
which  is  an  after-dinner  coffee  service  and  two 
cups.  He  comes  to  L.  end  of  couch  R.C. — stops 
— speaks. — Looking  up  to  her. 

PRUITT.  (Entering  with  coffee,  etc.  Apologetic 
ally)  Mrs.  Hewitt's  instructions  have  been  always 
to  serve  coffee,  after  dinner,  for  both  the  ladies  and 
gentlemen  in  here,  madam.  But  Mr.  Reynolds  just 
asked  me  to  ascertain  whether  that  would  be  agree 
able  to  you. 

NANCY.  (Turning — comes  to  top  step.  Frown- 
ing)  Did  he  ask  if  it  would  be  "agreeable"  to  me? 

PRUITT.     Yes,  madam. 

NANCY.  (Grimly)  Well,  after  that  dinner,  if  he 
thinks  it  would  be  "agreeable"  to  him — tell  him — all 
right. 

(Pauses  after  "tell  him,"  then  finishes  crisply  and 
quickly.  She  comes  down  steps — crosses  to  L. 
of  table  L.C. — walks  up  and  down  stage.) 

PRUITT.  Thank  yon,  madam.  (Crosses  to  table 
L.C. — puts  down  tray — pours  coffee.  Exits  R.E. 
NANCY  sits  L.  of  table.) 

89 


90  THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN 

(A  moment  later  GEORGE  appears  R.E.  He  is  in  eve 
ning  dress;  his  expression  and  manner  are  very 
serious  and  he  seems  gravely  disturbed.  NANCY, 
after  a  quick,  quiet  glance  at  him,  opens  her 
sewing-bag,  begins  to  sew,  and  continues  to  sew 
thoughtfully,  apparently  unaware  of  GEORGE'S 
presence.  GEORGE  comes  across  to  R.  of  table 
and  stands  there,  staring  at  her,  then  goes  R. 
to  couch  —  stands  looking  at  her,  annoyed. 
PRUITT  re-enters  R.E.,  with  tray  —  two  decanters 
and  poney  glasses  on  it.  Places  tray  on  table 
up  R.C.,  places  chair  from  up  R.  to  R.  of  table 
for  GEORGE.  GEORGE,  noting  this  with  a  slight 
start,  moves  as  if  to  sit  down  in  the  chair,  but 
does  not.  PRUITT  goes  back  to  serving  table. 
GEORGE  goes  R.  to  couch  and  sits  L.  end  of  it. 
PRUITT  crosses  with  tray  of  cordials  to  NANCY 
at  table  L.cJ 

PRUITT.     (To  NANCYJ     Liqueur,  ma'am? 
NANCY.     No,  thank  you. 


goes  to  GEORGE,  at  couch  R.c.J 

PRUITT.  (To  GEORGE  )  Your  brandy,  sir.  (This 
is  not  an  inquiry.) 

GEORGE.  (About  to  take  decanter.  With  a  slight 
start)  Uh  —  no,  thank  you. 

f  PRUITT  bows  —  goes  back  to  serving  table,  puts 
down  tray.  GEORGE  rises,  takes  a  cigarette  from 
his  pocket.  He  looks  curiously  at  NANCY.  He 
wishes  to  smoke,  but  is  afraid  to  ask  her  per 
mission.  NANCY  goes  on  knitting.  PRUITT 
comes  down  to  GEORGE  with  match  stand,  lights 
a  match  and  offers  it  to  GEORGE.  GEORGE,  about 
to  light  his  cigarette,  gives  a  glance  at  NANCY 
and  draws  back.) 

GEORGE.     Uh—  no,  thank  you. 


TH£  COUNTRY  COUSIN  91 

( PRUITT  bows — goes  up  to  table  up  R.C. — puts  down 
matches  and  exits  R.E.  NANCY  has  not  once 
looked  'round  at  GEORGE.  GEORGE  looks  at  his 
unlighted  cigarette  and  then  at  her,  and,  carry 
ing  the  cigarette  in  his  hand,  goes  up  steps  c. 
and  looks  out.) 

NANCY.  (Quietly,  looking  up  from  her  knitting, 
as  he  stands  looking  out.  Pushes  match  stand  to 
ward  him)  Hadn't  you  better  light  your  cigarette? 

GEORGE.  (Astonished)  Oh!  (Comes  back  to 
table)  Oh,  thanks.  (Lights  cigarette)  Quite  start 
led  me — your  speaking.  (He  speaks  in  a  rather 
humble  tone)  Last  time  you  were  gracious  enough 
to  address  me  was  when  the  soup  was  served,  I  be 
lieve. 

NANCY.  (Knitting,  not  smiling  nor  looking  at 
him)  I  had  to  then,  to  keep  you  from  burning 
yourself. 

GEORGE.  Ah — thanks!  (He  sits  R.  of  table  and 
drinks  his  coffee.  Pause)  Sorry  the  coffee  wasn't 
hot  enough  to  start  all  that  talkativeness  again. 

NANCY.  (Still  knitting,  not  looking  up)  Why 
should  I  talk?  I  haven't  anything  to  say. 

GEORGE.  (With  dignity)  Wouldn't  it  be  merely 
civil  to  say  that  you  accept  what  I  said :  that  Maud 
Howitt  was  mistaken? — I  did  not  ask  you  to  sing, 
this  afternoon,  with  the  idea  of  laughing  either  at 
you  or  the  song. 

NANCY.  (As  before)  Very  well,  I  believe 
you. 

GEORGE.  (After  a  short  pause,  looking  at  her 
with  some  surprise  and  injury)  Is  that  all? 

NANCY.  (Looking  at  him,  perplexed)  "Is  that 
all?" 

GEORGE.  (Earnestly)  See  here :  don't  you  think 
a  man  might  have  liked  to  be  out  yonder  dancing 
with  a  jolly  crowd,  instead  of  putting  in  an  evening 


92  THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN 

like  this?  (With  feeling  as  he  rises)  You  don't 
seem  to  realize  that  I  gave  that  up  just  in  order  to 
stay  here  and  straighten  this  thing  out  with  you. 
(Pause.  He  walks  to  up  c.  and  looks  out  again. 
She  resumes  her  knitting.  At  R.C.E.  He  turns  to 
ward  her  argunientatively,  again)  It  was  a  thing  I 
felt  was  due  to  myself. 

NANCY.  (Knitting,  speaks  indulgently)  Well, 
you've  done  it.  You've  paid  yourself. 

GEORGE.  (Annoyed.  Down  c.  to  her)  I  say! 
You  do  have  a  way  of  making  a  man  uncomfortable  ! 
(Sits  in  chair  R.  of  table)  I  say,  something's  wor 
rying  you,  isn't  it  ?  I  remember  being  told  as  a  child 
that  people  were  usually  rude  when  they  were  wor 
ried  about  something. 

NANCY.  (Knitting)  You're  a  living  proof  that 
that  can't  be  true,  Mr.  Reynolds. 

GEORGE.  But  I'm  positive  I'm  correct.  (With  a 
twinkle)  You  see,  as  you  never  looked  up  during 
dinner — except  on  your  Christian  kindness  about 
the  soup — the  fact  is — I — well — 7 — did!  You  didn't 
know  it,  but  I  looked  up  all  the  time,  in  fact.  It 
was  on  account  of  where  I  was  looking  that  I  came 
so  near  burning  myself !  (Leaning  toward  her, 
speaking  in  a  tone  suddenly  quite  earnest)  There ! 
You  see  I  admit  I  was — ah — interested. 

NANCY.  (Non-committal  tone)  I  suppose  that's 
quite  a  strain,  Mr.  Reynolds.  (Counting  stitches.) 

GEORGE.  (Antagonized  for  the  moment)  I  might 
mention  that  I'm  not  used  to  quite  so  much  knitting 
when  I  take  an  interest ! 

NANCY.  (Amiably)  Yes.  You  seem  to  be 
"used"  to  the  kind  of  thing  Ben  Bolt  was,  Mr. 
Reynolds ! 

"She  sobbed   with   delight  when  you  gave  her  a 

smile, — 
And  trembled  with  fear  at  your  frown !" 


THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN  93 

GEORGE.  (Disturbed,  rises,  goes  R.  to  R.c.j  Is 
habitual  rudeness  considered  a  virtue  in  O — Ohi — 
in  your  part  of  the  country  ? 

NANCY.  (Turns,  looking  at  him)  Rudeness? 
Why,  when  I  met  you,  when  you  came  to  Centre- 
ville — at  first  I  was  as  friendly  and  expansive  as 
a  setter  pup.  I  don't  think  I  ever  did  behave  more 
neighborly  to  anybody  on  first  sight. 

GEORGE.  (Flustered,  going  to  chair  R.  of  table) 
Well — we — here — we — we  don't  understand  that 
"neighborly"  sort  of  thing,  as  you  call  it,  at  first. 

NANCY.  No,  you  don't  seem  to!  You  seem  to 
consider  it  insulting.  It  must  be  that  you're  not 
used  to  it. 

GEORGE.  (Explaining,  kindly)  Of  course,  one 
has  to  be  a  little  on  one's  guard,  doesn't  one?  Oth 
erwise,  mightn't  the  oddest  sort  of  people  be  getting 
in  with  one? 

NANCY.  (Genially)  I  understand.  That's  why 
you  had  to  be  on  your  guard  with  me  at  first.  / 
might  have  turned  out  to  be  the  "oddest  sort"  of 
people.  (Rises,  goes  up  to  upper  end  of  mantel — 
pushes  button.  Taking  sewing-bag  with  her.) 

GEORGE.  (Honestly  and  earnestly)  But  don't 
you  see?  I  got  over  all  that.  (Reasonably,  up  of 
chair  R.  of  table)  But  by  the  time  I'd  got  polite  to 
you,  you'd  got  fwpolite  to  me. 

NANCY.  (Thoughtfully  and  not  boasting)  Yes, 
I'm  sure  you  feel  it's  safer  to  be  impolite  to  people 
until  you  make  up  your  mind  they're  all  right,  (c.) 
In  our  part  of  the  country  we're  polite  to  people 
until  we  make  up  our  minds  they  ought  to  be 
in  jail. 

GEORGE.  (Going  toward  her)  That  is,  you  wait 
to  lock  the  stable  door  until  after  the  horse  is  stolen. 

NANCY.  No,  we  go  and  e^et  him  back — and  hang 
the  fellow  that  stole  him !  Only,  we  never  hang  him 
before  we  #et  really  acquainted  with  him. 


94  THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN 

(TRUITT  enters  R.E. — NANCY  indicates  coffee  things 
— he  crosses  to  table — picks  up  tray  and  quickly 
exits  R.E.  NANCY  has  come  down  L.  during  this 
— crosses  R.  to  R.C. — GEORGE  following  her, 
speaking  as  he  goes.) 

GEORGE.  So  far  as  I  can  see,  you  re  ready  to 
hang  a  man  without  even  telling  him  what  he's  done! 
I  don't  understand  it:  I'm  a  guest  in  your  own 
cousin's  house;  an  intimate  friend  of  her  father's 
and  her  step-mother's,  one  of  the  circle  about  her. 
What's  the  matter? 

NANCY.  That  might  be  the  matter— partly. 
("Partly"  a  second  thought,  an  amused  one.) 

GEORGE.  (Quickly  and  sharply)  Oh,  because  I 
am  their  friend  and  a  visitor  here.  How's  that 
against  me? 

('NANCY  begins  to  laugh  good-naturedly,  but  a  little 
grimly,  too.) 

NANCY.  Eleanor  scolded  me  for  telling  small 
town  stories,  but  you  do  remind  me  of  old  Millie 
Swanter  when  they  quarantined  her  with  the  Lingle 
family  after  they'd  all  been  exposed  to  smallpox. 
"You  can't  quarantine  me,"  she  said,  "I'm  only  a 
boarder!"  (Concluding,  she  turns — goes  up  steps 
to  C.E.  and  looks  out.) 

GEORGE.  (Crosses  L.  to  chair  L.cJ  And  I'm  a 

visitor;  I  see  you  include  me,  then — with 

(Broken.) 

NANCY.  (She  turns,  with  semblance  of  a  little 
bozv  to  him)  With  these  other  "people  of  distinc 
tion"  that  her  father  promised  her. 

GEORGE.  (Up  to  her)  Meaning  that  you've  de 
cided  our  little  crowd  here  are  rather  a  tainted  lot  ? 

NANCY.  (Inquiring)  "Tainted?"  (Then,  as  not 
going  so  far)  Oh (Comes  slowly  down  steps.) 


THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN  95 

GEORGE.  (Goes  R.  to  R.C.J  Oh,  of  course  one 
can't  set  up  a  code  of  morals.  I  don't  pretend  I 
like  everything1  I  see  in  a  little  set  like  this.  One 
always  overlooks  some  things  in  almost  any  set; 
there'd  be  pretty  well  no  good  times  if  one  didn't. 

NANCY.  (Almost  inaudibly)  Ah!  (Laughs — 
goes  to  mantel  ~L.) 

GEORGE.  (Going  up  to  her.  Huskily)  How  un 
pleasantly  you  do  think  of  me ! 

NANCY.  (Goes  to  back  of  chair  L.  of  table.  Se 
riously)  I  don't  think  of  you  at  all — except  as  you 
concern  my  cousin, 

GEORGE.     (Blankly)    Little  Eleanor? 

NANCY.  (Defiant  note,  and  troubled)  Yes! 
Don't  you  see  I'm  thinking  of  her? 

GEORGE.     Well,  / — wasn't.    (Going  near  her.) 

NANCY.  (Half-sorroivfully,  half -scornfully)  No, 
and  I  don't  suppose  you  often  would.  That's  the 
trouble:  I'm  afraid  you'd  always  be  thinking — 
(Pauses — continues  slowly  and  gently) — of  George 
Tewksberry  Reynolds — Third.  (Going  down  L.) 

GEORGE.  (Stung)  I  say :  just  suppose  you  for 
get  that  "third !" 

NANCY.  (Laughs)  No.  There's  not  enough 
fun  in  life  to  give  up  the  memory  of  a  thing  like 
that.  (Goes  up  L.  to  upper  end  of  mantel — leans 
arm  upon  it — laughing.) 

GEORGE.     You  do  hate  me.  don't  you? 

NANCY.     (Quickly  and  emphatically)    No. 

GEORGE.  (Goes  up  L.C.  to  her.  Earnestly  ap 
pealing)  TELL  me  what's  the  matter  with  me? 

NANCY.  (With  spirit)  There's  NOTHING 
the  matter  with  you ;  that's  the  trouble.  You  do 
nothing  wrong  because  you  do  nothing  at  all.  (Go 
ing  to  him — back  of  table)  What  is  in  your  life? 
What  do  you  CARE  for?  Some  day  vour  country 
may  need  great  actions.  You  think  the  time  will 
ever  come  when  you — (Slight  emphasis) — can  be 


96  THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN 

roused  to  a  great  action — to  a  thing  generous  and 
heroic?  Why,  look!  Half  the  world's  on  fire  and 
YOU'RE  worrying  over  suitcases!  (Goes  down  L. 
of  table  to  extreme  *L.) 

GEORGE.  (Looks  front,  thinking.  Puzzled  and 
loudly,  earnest.  NANCY  walks  up  and  down  L.  dur 
ing  this)  Upon  my  soul !  I  DO  wish  I  knew  what 
on  earth  you're  talking  about!  What  ARE  you 
talking  ab (Broken.) 

NANCY.  (Satirical,  as  if  giving  a  nonsense  an 
swer,  yet  she  means  it,  and  this  is  what  she  has 
really  been  talking  about.  Going  up  to  him)  The 
United  States  and  the  Kaiser  Wilhelm!  (Goes  up 
steps — looks  off  c.Ej 

GEORGE.  (Taken  utterly  aback,  and  as  if  object 
ing  in  the  midst  of  his  puzzlement)  The  Kaiser? 
The  Kaiser?  The  United  States  and  the  Kaiser?  I 
don't  see  at  all  how  you  could  mean 

NANCY.     (Quickly)    It's  just  what  I  DID  mean. 

GEORGE.  (Slowly — thinking)  By  Jove,  I  shall 
have  to  think  that  out.  I  mean  to,  you  know,  I 
mean  to  think  it  out.  (Goes  to  couch  R.  and  sits.) 

NANCY.  I'm  afraid  you  won't  have  time.  (After 
count  of  5  voices  heard  off  R.  Listening  off.) 

GEORGE;     I'll  keep  at  it  till  L (Broken.) 

(Noise  of  MRS.  KINNEY'S,  ATHALIE'S,  and  CYRIL'S 
voices,  off  R.  ATHALIE,  in  her  wraps,  but  some 
what  tousled,  enters  C.E.,  speaking  excitedly  as 
she  comes.) 

ATHALIE.  (Standing  on  landing  c.)  George. 
Did  you  miss  me  ? 

NANCY.  (Taking  a  step  toward  her)  Is  Eleanor 
there  ? 

ATHALIE.  No — she's  coming  in  the  other  motor. 
She's  all  in.  ^NANCY  on  steps,  crosses  to  GEORGE, 
who  is  R.  on  couch)  George,  say  you  missed  me! 


THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN  97 

(Not  pausing  for  a  reply,  she  throws  herself  upon 
L.  arm  of  settee  R.C .)  Had  such  a  big  romp  it  broke 
up  the  party.  I  adore  to  see  men  fight ! 

GEORGE.  (Rises  quickly;  frowning)  Somebody 
got  in  a  fight? 

ATHALIE.  (NANCY  looking  off^  R. — on  terrace. 
With  champagney  ecstacy  and  intensity)  If  it 
weren't  for  you,  George,  I  could  love  that  man 
Archie  Gore !  He  never  ought  to  go  without  drink. 
When  he's  had  his  goblet  of  brandy,  he's  his  best 
self,  a  gorgeous,  adorable  brute!  One  moment  he 
was  dancing  with  Eleanor — ( NANCY  registers  this) 
—singing  and  merry,  and  the  next  he  saw  Cyril 

Kinney  tickling  Maud's  back  with  a  spoon 

(Grandiloquently)  It  was  epatant,  colossal — like  a 
primordial  god !  (More  naturally  and  briskly)  He 
caught  Cyril  on  the  point  of  the  chin  and  knocked 
him  clear  across  the  deck ! 

NANCY.  (Stepping  in.  Tensely)  Eleanor  saw 
that?  (VOICES.) 

ATHALIE.  (Rises)  Nobody  missed  it.  Archie 
Gore  is  a  superb  he!  (To  GEORGE,)  Look  what  he 
did !  (Crosses  L.  to  behind  table  L.c.J 

(Gestures  to  C.E.,  where  PRUITT  and  MRS.  KINNEY 
appear,  holding  up  CYRIL.  CYRIL  holds  his 
handkerchief  to  his  chin.) 

CYRIL.  (As  they  enter  C.E.  from  along  terrace 
R.j  I  don't  want  to  be  all  right.  I'm  satisfied  the 
way  I  am.  I  got  a  perfect  right  to  tickle  every 
body  ;  and  I'll  tickle  'em,  too !  (Drops  into  chair  L. 
of  C.E.  PRUITT  goes  to  door  up  L.J 

MRS.  K.  (Going  front  of  CYRIL  to  L.  of  him) 
It's  a  rotten  shame!  I  guess  Archie  Gore  doesn't 
own  Maud  Howitt,  does  he? 

f  ELEANOR,  dragging  her  wrap,  very  pale,  and  hold- 


98  THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN 

ing  her  arm  across  forehead  as  if  in  pain,  enters 
quickly  C.E.  GEORGE,  seeing  her,  goes  up  R.  back 
of  piano  to  rail.) 

NANCY.  (Standing  R.  of  C.E. — catches  her  as  she 
staggers  in)  Eleanor !  Come  up  to  your  room  with 
me.  (Puts  arm  around  her.) 

ELEANOR.  ^NANCY  helping  her  down  steps — they 
go  R.  Painfully,  quickly)  Get  Cyril  out  of  here, 
Mrs.  Kinney.  Maud  and  papa  are  keeping  Mr. 
Gore  talking-  outside — but  they  can't  do  much  with 
him.  Get  Cyril  upstairs !  (Sits  L.  end  of  couch  R. 
— NANCY  above  her.) 

(TRUITT  helps  MRS.  KINNEY  get  CYRIL  to  L.U. 
NANCY  moves  toward  ELEANOR,  who  is  still 
holding  her  head.  GEORGE  takes  MRS.  KIN- 
KEY'S  place  at  one  side  of  CYRIL J 

MRS.  K.  (Sharply  to  CYRIL,  as  they  go)  See 
what  you  started ! 

CYRIL.     (As  they  go)    What's  the  yacht  for? 

(Exeunt  GEORGE,  CYRIL  and  PRUITT,  up  L.E.,  MRS. 
KINNEY  following  them.  ELEANOR  still  hold 
ing  her  head.  NANCY  takes  her  hand.  ATHA- 
LIE  has  followed  the  other  group  toward  L.E. 
and  stands  listening,  excitedly,  and  looking  off 

C.EJ 

ATHALIE.  (Turning  toward  ELEANOR  and 
NANCY,)  They're  taking  Cyril  up  the  back  way. 
Gore's  raging.  (With  pleased  excitement)  He's 
hunting  him  all  over  the  place.  Ooh!  (She  gives 
a  delighted  little  scream,  looking  off  C.E.  again.  As 
GORE  enters — she  goes  L.  to  railing — watches  fol 
lowing  scene.) 

enters  C.E.,  from  along  terrace  R.,  followed 
closely  by  MAUD,  and  giving  the  effect  of  hav- 


THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN  99 

ing  just  broken  from  her  grasp.  He  is  drunk, 
but  does  not  stagger  nor  mispronounce.  He  is 
heavily  flushed  but  not  in  disorder.  HOWITT 
appears  in  C.E.  anxiously.  NANCY  rises  above 
ELEANOR,  covering  her  from  sight.) 

GORE.  (Leaping  down  steps  to  c.  As  he  enters, 
harshly)  I'll  break  the  last  bone  in  his  body !  (Goes 
down  R.C.  and  back  c.)  I  will  if  I  get  him ! 

MAUD.  (Sharply,  coming  down  c.)  Don't  be  a 
fool,  Archie ! 

GORE.  (Striding  about  the  room)  I  did  land  him 
one,  but  I  didn't  get  it  in  right.  (Crosses  to  her) 
Think  I'll  stand  any  other  man  pawing  over  my 
best  girl  ? 

MAUD.  (Shrilly,  with  great  vehemence)  Shut 
up,  Archie!  (Goes  to  him.) 

GORE.  (Suddenly  offended  with  her,  and  angry) 
What's  the  matter?"  (To  c.) 

MAUD.  (Nervously)  Nothing.  You've  had  a 
little  too  much,  Archie,  and  it's  made  you  ugly. 

GORE.  (Harshly.  Breaking  away.  Goes  down 
R.C. — then  back  to  her)  Oh,  it  has,  has  it?  I  sup 
pose  you  want  me (Broken.) 

MAUD.  You  just  let  Stan  look  after  you.  (Goes 
up  steps — to  rail  R.) 

GORE.  (Going  down  L. — then  back  to  c.  As  if 
controlling  his  rage)  I'll  go!  I'll  go  back — sleep 
on  my  own  boat !  (He  strides  toward  C.E.  HOWITT 
comes  to  meet  him,  with  his  hand  lifted  as  if  to  as 
sist  GORE.  GORE  does  not  pause,  but  speaks  harshly 
to  HOWITT )  Keep  your  hands  off  me !  (Strides  out 
C.E.,  followed  by  HOWITT.  MAUD  stares  after  them 
tensely,  then  exits  R.u.E.J 

ATHALIE.  What  a  man  I  (Goes  to  L.U.E.  and  ex- 
Its.  NANCY  stands  looking  gravely  at  ELEANOR; 
ELEANOR  looks  slowly  up  at  her.) 

ELEANOR.     Papa  and  Maud  were  there  to  look 


ioo  THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN 

after  me.  I  was  all  right.  I  haven't  learned  to  take 
that  much  champagne!  (Rises — backs  away  Rj 
Nancy,  I  guess  I  won't  stand  any  talk!  I  can't — 

NANCY.  (Gently)  No,  I  see  you  can't,  to-night. 
All  I'll  do  to-night  is  just  get  you  to  bed.  ("MAUD 
enters  R.U.E. — sees  this.  She  puts  her  arm  around 
ELEANOR  and  helps  her  toward  exit  R.J  Come  on, 
dear,  and  I'll  tuck  you  in.  We'll  just  pretend  we're 
home. 

(Exeunt  NANCY  and  ELEANOR  R.E.  NANCY  has  car 
ried  her  sewing-bag  throughout.  After  a  mo 
ment,  MAUD  goes  to  table,  in  a  tired  attitude, 
and  lights  a  cigarette.  Enter  HOWITT  C.E. 
Comes  down  steps  and  goes  R.J 

MAUD.     (As  he  enters)     You  got  him  off? 

fHowiTT  nods  gravely;  begins  to  walk  back  and 
forth  across  the  room.) 

HOWITT.  (Coming  down  R.C.  In  a  sharp,  low 
voice)  I  didn't  know  Eleanor  was  overdoing  it  so ! 
Where  is  she? 

MAUD.  (Wearily,  sits  L.  of  table)  Gone  up 
stairs  with  that  Price  girl. 

HOWITT.  (Going  c.)  What  did  you  let  her  do 
that  for?  Especially  after 

MAUD.  (Impatiently)  Eleanor's  too  done  up  to 
listen  to  her — or  understand  her ! 

HOWITT.  (Bitterly)  I'd  almost  call  that  fortu 
nate  after  that  break  made  by  your  friend  Gore ! 

MAUD.     (Sharply)    Now,  I  won't—    -  (Broken.) 

HOWITT.     His  delicate  allusion (Broken.) 

MAUD.     Oh,  good  heavens  ! 

(Enter  PRUITT  R.J 


THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN  .  i.oi 

V  ••  t*   t   *    a   *  *o     *   -3 

PRUITT.  Mr.  Stromberg  called  up  by  long  dis 
tance,  while  you  were  out,  ma'am. 

MAUD.  (Pettishly)  Oh,  I  suppose  he  wants  to 
say  I  couldn't  have  my  brooch  Monday,  after  all. 

PRUITT.  No,  madam.  Mr.  Stromberg  was  anx 
ious  to  know  if  everything  was  satisfactory. 

MAUD.     Oh,  he  did  send  it,  then?     Where  is  it? 

PRUITT.  Nothing  was  left  with  me,  madam,  or 
any  of  the  domestics. 

HOWITT.  (Crossly,  not  taking  interest)  Of 
course  not!  How  ridiculous! 

MAUD.     What  time  was  the  messenger  here? 

PRUITT.  A  few  minutes  after  you  left  for  Mr. 
Gore's  yacht,  madam.  At  least  I  suppose  it  was  the 
messenger. 

MAUD.     Who  let  him  in? 

PRUITT.  Miss  Price  saw  him  on  the  terrace, 
madam.  ^MAUD  looks  at  HOWITT.J 

HOWITT.  (Snubbing  MAUD'S  questioning)  Miss 
Price  ?  He  wouldn't  have  left  it  with  her.  He  had 
no  authority  to. 

MAUD.  Did  you  notice — was  he  carrying  a  pack 
age? 

PRUITT.  No,  madam,  not  carrying  it.  He  was 
just  opening  it  for  her. 

HOWITT.     (Halting — incredulously)     He  was? 

PRUITT.     Yes,  sir. 

HOWITT.  He — he  certainly  didn't  leave  it  with 
Miss  Price,  did  he? 

PRUITT.     I  couldn't  say,  sir. 

MAUD.  Did  you  hear  him  speak  to  Miss  Price 
by  name  ? 

PRUITT.     No,  madam. 

MAUD.     Did  you  speak  to  her  by  name  ? 

PRUITT.  No,  madam.  I  just  spoke  to  her  as 
"madam." 

MAUD.     That's  all. 

PRUITT.     Thank  you,  madam.     (Exits  R.E.J 


103  THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN 

HOWITT.  (He  stands  frowning  a  moment,  then 
speaks)  Funny  the  messenger's  showing  it  to  her. 

MAUD.  (Looking  straight  front,  not  at  HOWITT, 
speaks  with  decision)  She's  got  it ! 

HOWITT.  (Crossly)  They  don't  leave  things 
like  that  with  casual  visitors.  They'd  have  to  have 
your  signature  or  mine. 

MAUD.  They  don't  know  mine.  Couldn't  she 
sign  it? 

HOWITT.  (Going  up  c.)  It's  impossible.  He 
wouldn't  have  left  it  with  her — (Slower.  Goes  to 
her) — not  unless  he  thought  she  was  Mrs. 
Howitt. 

MAUD.  (Rises  and  goes  R.  Turning  sharply  to 
HowiTTj  She  was  alone  here.  That  messenger 
took  her  absolutely  for  Mrs.  Howitt — and  she  let 
him. 

HOWITT.  (Going  L.  Frowning)  Curious  way 
to  behave — if  she  did. 

MAUD.  One  thing's  certain:  she  didn't  do  it  to 
oblige  us ! 

HOWITT.     No !    (Sorely.) 

MAUD.  (Going  c.)  Well,  that  brooch  is  mine, 
and  I  want  it. 

HOWITT.  (Turning  to  her  sharply)  Wait.  Driv 
ing  down  to  the  dock,  Eleanor  asked  me  if  the 
brooch  came  to  a  thousand  dollars.  This  Price  girl 
had  been  making  her  nervous,  I  suppose,  over  ex 
penses.  Well — I  told  Eleanor  it  was  five  thousand ! 

MAUD.  All  right ;  let  her  think  it  was  five. 
(Steps  away  R.  to  couch.) 

HOWITT.  (Steps  after  her.  Quickly)  I  sent 
them  her  check  for  twenty-fart  yesterday.  (She 
turns)  There  isn't  a  chance  on  earth  but  that  Strom- 
berg  sent  the  receipt  out  here  with  the  brooch,  and 
the  Price  girl's  got  it, — if  she's  got  the  brooch. 

(Enter  GEORGE  C.E.J 


THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN  103 

GEORGE.  (Coming  to  c.)  Uh (MAUD 

HOWITT  starts  at  sound  of  his  voice)  Do  you  know 
is  Miss  Price  coming  down  again? 

HOWITT.  (Giving  her  a  hint)  Maud  was  just 
going  up  to  ask  her  if  she  wouldn't  come  down  for 
a  little  talk  with  us.  (MAUD  goes  to  R.  of.  piano.) 

GEORGE.     Oh ! 

MAUD.  (Grimly,  going  to  R.E.)  She'll  come! 
That's  all  Fll  ask  her  to  do. 

(STAN  nods.  Exit  MAUD  R.E.  HOWITT  goes  up  R. 
back  of  piano,  looking  after  MAUD — frowning. 
GEORGE  comes  down  steps — goes  slowly  to  chair 
R.  of  table.) 

GEORGE.     (Rather  dreamily)    Odd  world,  isn't  it? 

HOWITT.     Very. 

GEORGE.  (Still  dreamily)  You  know  I've  never 
liked  many  people.  I  wonder  if  they've  thought 
much  about  it  ? 

HOWITT.     I  dare  say  not. 

GEORGE.  It  just  struck  me  that  you  can  think  a 
great  deal  about  people  not  liking  you.  In  fact, 
you  can  think  most  of  all  about  somebody  that  dis 
likes  you. 

HOWITT.  (Paying  no  attention — with  his  back 
towards  GEORGE j  I  dare  say. 

GEORGE.  (Gently)  Yes.  (About  to  sit  in  chair 
R.  of  table)  Fine  night  out,  isn't  it? 

HOWITT.  (Turns — goes  to  c.)  George,  would 
you  mind  going  out  for  a  while?  (MAUD  enters) 
Maud  and  I  have  something  rather  intimate  to  talk 
over  with  Miss  Price. 

GEORGE.  (Going  to  steps  c.  Blankly)  Oh!  Cer 
tainly  ! 

HOWITT.     Thank  you. 

MAUD.  Oh — eh (GEORGE  exits  C.E.  HOW 
ITT  motions  her  not  to  speak.  She  goes  to  him  at  c.) 


104  THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN 

Eleanor's  asleep.  They  didn't  talk.  Her  maid  told 
me.  (In  a  breath)  We'll  get  that  brooch  and  get 
rid  of  her,  too! 

HOWITT.     Where's 

( NANCY  enters  R.E.,  carrying  her  sewing-bag.  She 
stands  R.C.,  looking  at  HOWITT.  MAUD  goes 
R.C.  to  NANCY.  HOWITT  stands  c.,  looking  se 
verely  at  NANCY J 

MAUD.  (Starts  to  speak — weakens.  Turns  to 
HOWITT j  I  thought  I'd  just  let  you  ask  Miss  Price 
about  it,  Stan,  in  case — 

HOWITT.  (Takes  a  step  towards  NANCY;  Yes. 
It's  about  the  jeweller's  messenger  that  you  saw  this 
afternoon,' Miss  Price (Broken.) 

NANCY.  (Comprehending,  speaks  quietly)  Oh, 
about  him.  (Sits  L.  end  of  couch  R.) 

HOWITT.  (Merely  questioning)  He  left  Mrs. 
Howitt's  brooch  with  you?  And  the  receipt?  (She 
does  not  speak)  You  didn't  understand  me.  I'm 
asking  for  Mrs.  Howitt's  brooch. 

NANCY.  (Lifeless  tone)  I'll  talk  about  that  with 
Eleanor — when  she  can. 

(MAUD  gives  HOWITT  a  look — crosses  to  chair  L.c.J 

HOWITT.  (Stiffening.  Going  to  NANCYJ  May 
I  ask  when  you  propose  to  consider  that  she  "can"  ? 

NANCY.     (Significantly)    Not  to-night. 

HOWITT.  (Incredulously)  You  surely  don't 
mean  that  you  refuse  to  turn  over  my  wife's  prop 
erty  when  she  demands  it? 

NANCY.     I'll  speak  of  it  only  to  Eleanor. 

MAUD.  (Sits  chair  L.C.  Sharply)  Make  her  ad 
mit  she's  got  it ! 

HOWITT.  It  strikes  me  she  has  admitted  it — 
rather!  (To  NANCY)  You  actually  wish  to  put 


THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN  105 

yourself  in  the  position  of  declining  to  turn  over 
Mrs.  Howitt's  brooch  to  her,  do  you  ?  (Short  pause) 
Very  well !  I  didn't  believe  you'd  walk  into  this 
house  and  take  something  without  thinking  your 
self,  in  some  crazy  way,  in  the  right  about  it. 

NANCY.  (After  giving  him  a  long,  keen  look) 
Go  on,  Mr.  Howitt. 

HOWITT.  It  strikes  me  that  perhaps  your  Uncle 
Ben  left  you  out  of  his  will  because  he  knew  you  had 
— traits  such  as  have  just  come  to  our  notice,  here. 
Wasn't  that  the  reason  he  left  it  all  to  Eleanor? 

NANCY.  (Mildly)  Oh,  no.  The  reason  he  left 
it  all  to  Eleanor  was  because  the  rest  of  us  were 
getting  on  all  right.  But  Eleanor's  mother  had  had 
all  her  money  spent  for  her,  long  ago. 

HOWITT.  (Controlling  himself  with  difficulty) 
Miss  Price,  my  wife  and  I  are  willing  to  keep  the 
whole  thing  quiet  even  from  Eleanor  herself.  All 
you've  got  to  do  is  to  turn  that  brooch  over  to  me  at 
once,  with  the  receipt  that  came  with  it,  and  to 
morrow  you  can  pack  up  and  make  some  excuse  for 
being  called  back  home. 

f  NANCY  chuckles  at  this.) 

MAUD.     Well,  well?    (Rises.) 

HOWITT.     Now,  Miss  Price. 

MAUD.     Stop  being  polite ! 

HOWITT.  I  will.  It's  about  time  we  stopped  be 
ing  polite  to  you ! 

NANCY.  You  can't,  you  can't  stop  anything  you 
haven't  begun.  ( Ho  WITT  goes  up  c.,  then  down 
L.C.J 

MAUD.  (Crossing  to  NANCY)  Don't  you  take 
that  tone  with  us.  You  think  you'll  tell  Eleanor 
about  the  price  of  that  brooch,  and  make  a  great 
hit  with  her  and  damage  her  father,  don't  you? 
(HowiTT  up  and  down  L.C.  during  this)  Of  course, 


io6  THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN 

we'll  have  to  let  Eleanor  know  that  we  told  her  the 
brooch  was  five  thousand  dollars  to  give  her  the 
pleasure  of  thinking  she  was  making  such  a  pres 
ent,  but  naturally  we  intended  from  the  first  to  make 
up  the  other  twenty  thousand  ourselves ! 

HOWITT.  (Coming  down  L.C.  Delighted)  Of 
course.  That's  it! 

MAUD.  You  ought  to  be  devilish  thankful  we 
don't  send  for  the  police ! 

HOWITT.  (Taking  a  step  forward)  Miss  Price, 
if  you  think  that's  an  exaggeration,  I'll  take  pleas 
ure  in  making  it  clear  just  where  you  stand.  You 
impersonated  another  woman  this  afternoon  in  or 
der  to  obtain  jewelry  of  considerable  value.  That's 
a  felony.  In  addition,  you  forged  Mrs.  Howitt's 
name.  We  know  that.  Forgery.  That's  another 
felony. 

NANCY.  (Gently)  I  helped  you  to  get  Eleanor 
here,  Mr.  Howitt.  I'd  gladly  commit  a  real  felony 
to  pay  for  that ! 

HOWITT.  We  demand  possession  of  that  brooch. 
Do  you  refuse  ?  I  said,  Do  you  refuse  ? 

NANCY.  (Rising.  Goes  c.)  You're  getting 
yourselves  all  upset  for  nothing. 

( HOWITT  goes  up  L.C.) 

MAUD.  (Going  to  her)  Upset!  You'd  better 
get  a  little  upset,  yourself.  A  maid  took  a  necklace 
of  mine  once:  this  one  right  here,  that  I'm  wearing! 
Would  you  like  to  know  where  she  is  now? 

("NANCY  crosses  L.  to  table.) 

HOWITT.  (Coming  down  to  her)  Mrs.  Howitt 
didn't  put  that  one  bit  too  strong,  Miss  Price.  That 
brooch  belonged  to  my  wife  from  the  moment  Strom- 
berg  got  the  check ;  and  the  minute  we  allow  him 


THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN  107 

to  discover  that  it  was   taken   from  his  agent  by 
fraud  and  forgery,  the  case  is  out  of  our  hands. 

fNANCY  goes  front  of  table  and  up  L.  to  mantel.) 

MAUD.  And  God  help  you  when  it  gets  as  far  as 
that! 

HOWITT.     (Going  up  c.    Beginning  fiercely)     If 

I  could  reach  Stromberg  on  the  telephone  to-night, 
TM 

JL   U.  " 

MAUD.  (Crossing  L.  to  table.  Growing  nearer 
loss  of  all  control)  Why,  you  little  Jay,  do  you 
think  you  can  come  here  and  ride  over  me  like  this  ? 
I've  been  too  long  in  the  world  for  a  little  country 
scrub  to  take  my  own  jewels  right  off  my  breast! 
When  Stromberg  has  finished  getting  them  from 
you,  you'll  be  through  with  interfering  in  people's 
family  affairs,  for  quite  some  time!  (During  this 
speech  HOWITT  walks  up  and  down  R.C.  Almost 
shrieking)  You  were  sent  on  here  by  Stan's  first 
wife  to  make  trouble  between  him  and  his  daugh 
ter  !  You'll  see  what  you  get ! 

( Ho  WITT  goes  back  of  piano  to  R.  of  it — then  to 
front  of  couch.  GEORGE  appears  in  C.E. — 
frowning  and  disturbed.  ATHALIE  and  MRS. 
KINNEY,  with  billiard  cues  in  their  hands,  ap 
pear  at  U.L.E.,  looking  startled.  No  pause.) 

GEORGE.  (At  C.E.,  speaking  quickly  and  gravely) 
I  don't  know  what  about  the  neighbors,  Maud,  but 
/  could  hear  you  at  the  other  end  of  the  terrace. 

MRS.  K.  (Going  down  R.C.  to  L.  of  couch. 
Quickly  and  loudly)  Of  course  we  could  hear  you 
outside,  but 

ATHALIE.  (Leaning  over  rail  L.)  But  one  does 
love  to  see! 

MAUD.     (Going  on  violently)     What  do  /  care 


io8  THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN 

who  hears  me?  Eleanor's  had  to  spend  all  her  life 
out  there  with  those  people — having  a  rotten,  dull 
time  of  it,  too,  you  bet — and  the  minute  she  got  with 
her  father,  where  she  could  enjoy — (^ELEANOR,  in  a 
peignoir,  her  R.  forearm  across  her  forehead,  in 
pain,  enters  R.E.  to  below  couch) — herself,  they  sent 
this  woman  on  to  get  her  back,  for  fear  she'll  spend 
a  little  of  her  money  on  somebody  else  but  them! 
(Crosses  to  R.C.) 

HOWITT.  (Looking  R.E.  and  exclaiming.  Goes 
to  her)  Eleanor! 

ELEANOR.  (As  she  enters)  What  is  all  the  noise 
about  ? 

NANCY.  (Crossing  R.  to  c.)  Nothing  for  you 
to  worry  about  to-night. 

MAUD.  (Coming  down  between  them.  With  a 
loud  laugh)  No!  Not  to-night! 

ELEANOR.  Oh,  Nancy !  f  GEORGE  comes  down 
steps — goes  back  of  table  to  TL.)  Couldn't  you  let 
things  be  peaceful  just  to-night,  when  you  knew  I 
had  this  headache?  I  can't  stand  it!  (Falls  back 
into  HOWITT'S  arms.) 

NANCY.  (Taking  a  step  toward  her)  Then  just 
let  me  take  you  back  to  bed,  dearie. 

HOWITT.  (Intervening,  and  placing  his  arm 
around  ELEANOR,  who  turns  to  him)  If  you  please. 
This  is  my  daughter,  and  if  she  needs  any  attention, 
my  wife  is  going  to  give  it  to  her!  (Beckoning  to 
MAUD  with  his  head)  Maud ! 

^MAUD  takes  ELEANOR  in  her  arms.) 

ELEANOR.  Nancy !  Nancy !  What  have  you 
been  doing? 

MAUD.  What's  she  been  doing  every  minute  since 
she  got  here?  Trying  to  set  you  against  your 
father! 

ELEANOR.  Oh,  Nancy!  If  you'd  only  have  a 
little  tact! 


THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN  109 

Ho  WITT.     (Bitterly)     Tact ! 

NANCY.  (Crosses  to  R.c.J  You  said  you  could 
give  her  a  "larger  and  brighter  life" 

HOWITT.  (Hotly)  Isn't  it  here?  Hasn't  she 
got  it? 

NANCY.  It's  here,  somewhere,  but  she  hasn't 
got  it!  You  said  she  would  meet  "pe°ple  of  dis 
tinction  !"  These?  You  might  as  well  have  brought 
her  into  a  nest  of  rattlesnakes!  (Crosses  to  chair 

L.C.; 

HOWITT.  (Crossing  to  NANCY,)  Miss  Price !  I 
warn  you  to  spare  my  daughter  this  outburst  to 
night.  You'll  talk  to-morrow  morning. 

NANCY.  I'd  rather  talk  now  while  I  have  a 
chance ! 

( HOWITT  crosses  up  R.C.  to  R.  of  steps.) 

ELEANOR.     (Protesting  sharply)     No! 

MAUD.  No.  I  don't  think  Eleanor  will  care  to 
hear  anything  from  you,  after  your  calling  all  her 
dearest  friends  "a  nest  of  rattlesnakes !"  (Starts  to 
take  ELEANOR  to  R.E.J 

NANCY.  (Taking  c.  With  fire)  I  shouldn't 
have  called  you  that.  A  rattlesnake  doesn't  lie  and 
he  doesn't  drink;  his  family  is  one  of  the  oldest  in 
the  world  and  you  never  heard  of  his  mentioning  it 
or  even  thinking  about  it! 

MAUD.  (Loudly  derisive)  There's  one  for  you, 
George!  (Turns — with  ELEANOR  R.  of  couch.) 

NANCY.  (Taking  them  all  in — works  her  way 
up  steps)  And  when  I  think  I  compared  him  with 
people  who  live  for  highballs  and  ragtime — and 
money  that  comes  any  way  that's  easy — people  who 
judge  humanity  by  whether  humanity  carries  a 
leather  suitcase  or  a  wicker  one 

(MRS.  KINNEY  drops  down  to  L.  of  couch.) 


i  io  THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN 

GEORGE.  (Going  up  to  NANCY,)  You're  wrong ! 
You're  wrong,  I  tell  you!  When  you  attempt  to 
say (Broken.) 

NANCY.  (On  c.  of  top  step)  I  am  wrong!  And 
I  ask  pardon — of  the  rattlesnake !  I  tell  you  a  rat 
tlesnake  is  a  good  American  and  some  pretty  good 
Americans  put  him  on  a  flag  once,  "Don't  tread  on 
me!"  it  said.  A  rattlesnake  lets  you  know  when 
he's  going  to  fight,  and  he  fights  fair,  but  he  strikes 
with  every  ounce  of  strength  he's  got  in  him !  Oh, 
you  little  people  you,  how  I  wish  you  were  like  him  ! 
How  I  wish  /  were!  (She  runs  out  C.E.) 

WARNING  CURTAIN 

(After  NANCY'S  exit.  NANCY  to  finish  strong,  let 
applause  come  as  hard  as  possible.  Confused 
speeches  together,  angry  and  surprised  voices.) 

MAUD.  (Front  of  couch  with  ELEANOR  j  A  very 
pleasant  exhibition !  Pleasant  behavior  for  a  guest ! 
(Ad  lib.) 

MRS.  K.  (At  R.cJ  What — did — she — mean? 
Great  treat  for  visitors !  "Come  to  see  us  and  get 
called  a  rattlesnake."  (Ad  lib.) 

ATHALIE.  (Leaning  over  railing  L.)  No  mean 
ing  to  what  she  said ! 

HOWITT.  (Coming  down  c.)  I  suppose  you 
might  as  well  all  understand,  this  whole  trouble  was 
over  a  brooch  of  Maud's.  Now  WHAT  did  that 
outburst  of  hers  have  to  do  with  a  brooch? — What 
did  IT  have  to  do  with  AN Ything  ?  What  on  earth 
was  she  talking  about  ? 

GEORGE.  (Back  of  table  L.  Loudly,  with  Im 
mense  conviction)  I  can  tell  you ! 

HOWITT.     (Amazed )     You? 

GEORGE.     She  was  right,  too !    Right  to  the  min- 


THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN  in 

ute!     She   was   doing   it  again!     She   WAS!     I 
know  what  she  was  talking  about ! 

HOWITT.     (Fiercely)    You  do?    Then  for  God's 
sake  tell  us  what  was  it? 

CURTAIN 

GEORGE.     (Inspired)    The  United  States  and  the 
Kaiser ! 

Playing  time — 24  minutes. 
FAST  CURTAIN 


ACT  IV 

I 

SCENE:  The  same  as  Act  III.  Morning.  At  Ihc 
table  L.C.  seated  R.  of  it,  smoking,  is  MRS.  KIN- 
NEY,  in  a  becoming  morning  dress,  having 
breakfast  with  CYRIL,  who  is  L.  of  table.  He 
wears  flannels  or  crash,  or  other  type  summer 
morning  suit.  A  ne^uspaper  upon  table  at  MRS. 
KINNEY'S  right.  She  is  reading  it.  CYRIL 
drinks  from  a  long  glass  and  sighs  with  painful 
satisfaction.  MRS.  KINNEY  reads  throughout 
following  scene. 

MRS.  KINNEY  You'd  better  eat  something',  I 
think!  (Alluding  to  glass.) 

CYRIL.  (Taking  a  small  pinch  of  toast)  Oh,  I 
do,  I  do!  (After  a  glance  at  her,  drinks  again.) 

MRS.  K.  (Coldly)  I've  told  you,  you'll  go  the 
way  your  father  did.  That  ends  my  responsibility, 
thank  God !  (Facing  front.) 

CYRIL.  It's  wonderful,  mumsey,  how  well  I  don't 
feel !  (Short,  thoughtful  pause)  I  oughtn't  to  have 
taken  coffee  after  dinner,  last  night;  it  always 

MRS.  K.  Don't  bother  me  with  your  troubles, 
we  had  some  real  excitement  last  night.  That  Miss 
Price. 

CYRIL.     What  did  she  do? 

MRS.  K.     She  raised  Cain. 

CYRIL.     What  like? 

MRS.  K.  (Coolly)  Like  the  devil!  Insulted  us 
all — went  quite  out  of  her  head — called  us  "rattle 
snakes" 

CYRIL.     Well,  well! 

112 


THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN  113 

MRS.  K.  Oh,  she  quite  laid  your  performance  in 
in  the  shade — even  your  getting  yourself  knocked 
down. 

CYRIL.  (Nervously,  slowly )  My  "getting-  my 
self" — what?  (Touches  his  chin  and  moves  it  rust- 
ily)  Oh,  that's  what  did  it! 

MRS.  K.  Really,  doesn't  it  make  you  rather  tired, 
knowing  what  an  ass  you  made  of  yourself,  last 
night  ? 

CYRIL.     But  I  don't  know! 

MRS.  K.  Sometimes  you  take  me  back  quite  to 
the  days  of  my  honeymoon,  you're  so  like  your 
father !  (Resumes  reading.) 

CYRIL.  (Plaintively)  Why,  mumsey,  you're  sen 
timental  ! 

MRS.  K.  Yes,  your  father  .never  could  remem 
ber  anything — about  the  preceding  evening. 

CYRIL.  That's  the  one,  single  blessing  of  a  morn 
ing  after  a  preceding  evening.  But  it  doesn't  last. 
Your  best  friends  always  tell  you.  So  go  ahead, 
mumsey.  Who — who'd  you  say  hit  me? 

MRS.  K.     Archie  Gore. 

CYRIL.     (Timidly)     What— what  for? 

MRS.  K.  (Coldly)  Because  you  were  tickling 
Maud  Howitt. 

CYRIL.  (Smiling  faintly)  That  all?  W7hy,  / 
must  be  a  rogue!  What  did  Gore  hit  me  for? 

MRS.  K.  (Sharply — spacing  ivords)  I  said,  be 
cause  you  were — tickling — Maud — Howitt. 

CYRIL.  I  mean,  it  doesn't  seem  very  subtle  of 
him.  Howitt  was  there  to  hit  me. 

MRS.  K.     Maud's  very  imprudent. 

CYRIL.  I  don't  think  Maud  and  Stan  will  be  very 
rough  with  Gore  over  it,  though. 

MRS.  K.  No,  not  so  long  as  he  keeps  poor  Stan 
in  his  firm. 

CYRIL.  Guess  I'll  be  humane  and  let  old  Gore  off, 
myself.  I  like  his  boat. 


ii4  THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN 

NATHALIE  enters  L.U.E.,  wearing  summer  morning 
dress;  rather  "extreme"  and  fairly  short.  She 
•wears  a  hat;  has  parasol.) 

ATHALIE.  (As  she  enters  L.y.Ej  Good  morn 
ing.  (They  respond.  Leaning  over  rail  L.)  How 
are  all  my  fellow  rattlesnakes,  this  morning?  Did 
you  ever  know  anything  quite  like  that  girl's  goin' 
off  her  head  the  way  she  did?  Has  anybody  seen 
George?  (Both  shake  hands;  CYRIL  is  sorry 
after  shaking  his)  What's  the  idea,  breakfast  in 
here? 

MRS.  K.  After  last  night  you  don't  suppose  we 
want  to  sit  at  table  with  the  Price  woman,  do  you, 
old  party  ? 

ATHALIE.  (Joining  them)  Had  mine  in  my 
room.  Not  much  sleep,  my  room  beinj  next  to  young 
Eleanor's !  Maud  spent  most  of  the  night  with  her, 
and  Stan  was  there  bright  and  early,  thank  you, 
headin'  off  the  Price  girl  from  goin'  in.  She  hasn't 
got  to  see  Eleanor,  yet.  What's  your  news?  (Sits 
on  rail  L.) 

MRS.  K.  (Picking  up  paper,  bored)  Nothing. 
Only  this  tiresome  war.  I  don't  see  why  they  keep 
it  up  so  long.  I  should  think  they'd  have  been  bored 
to  death  with  it  ages  ago ! 

ATHALIE.  My  dear  thing!  I  don't  mean  that. 
I  mean  what's  Stan  told  you  about  the  Price  per 
son's  turning  out  to  be  an  amateur  Raffles.  (Slyly) 
Stan  tells  you  everything,  doesn't  he,  Janie  ? 

MRS.  K.  (Coldly.  Indignant — puts  paper  on 
table)  I  don't  quite  care  for  that,  you  know. 

ATHALIE.  (Amused  glance  at  CYRIL,)  Tactless 
of  me — with  the  children  present!  Apologies. 
Now  tell  us.  What's  really  up? 

MRS.  K.  Eleanor's  put  everything  absolutely  in 
her  father's  hands.  I  think  there's  to  be  some  sort 
of  general  riot. 


THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN  115 

CYRIL.  (Tired)  This  Miss  Price  must  have  been 
quite  the  rowdy! 

ATHALIE.  Curious  type — the  provincial  adven 
turess. 

('GEORGE  enters  slowly  R.E.  with  a  note-book  and  thin 
volume  of  an  encyclopedia,  which  he  is  dream 
ily  reading.  MRS.  KINNEY  notes  him  first.) 

MRS.  K.     (Negligently)    There's  George. 

ATHALIE.  (Rising  quickly.  Going  to  c.  of  plat 
form)  George  !  George,  have  you  heard (As 
tonished.  Stops)  What  on  earth  are  you  doing 
with  a  book? 

GEORGE.  (Quietly,  as  he  conies  to  couch  R.c.J 
Reading,  Athalie. 

CYRIL.     What ! 

ATHALIE.  (Profoundly  puzzled)  Very  strange! 
(To  others)  What  do  you  make  of  it? 

MRS.  K.  Recent  events  have  deeply  affected  his 
poor  mind.  (Indulgently)  What  is  the  book, 
George  ? 

GEORGE.  (Sits  couch  R.c.  Absently)  Reference 
book.  I've  been  making  some  notes. 

ATHALIE.  (Coming  down  R.C.  above  him)  For 
heaven's  sake !  What  about  ? 

GEORGE.  (Mildly  and  studying  his  scribbled 
sheet)  It's  very  surprising  but  it  seems  to  be  so! 
(Reads)  "Although  New  York  and  adjacent  set 
tlements  take  a  pardonable  pride  in  their  vast  size 
and  rightful  importance,  it  is  difficult  to  deny  that 
at  the  close  of  the  Civil  W7ar,  the  two  ranking-gen 
erals  in  command  of  all  the  forces  of  the  United 
States  both  came  from  a  state  at  some  distance  from 
this  great  center.  In  fact,  it  is  also  difficult  to  deny 
that  while  only  nine  citizens  have  been  elected  to 
the  presidency  of  the  United  States,  since  the  Civil 
War,  actually  six  of  these  nine  presidents  were  born 


n6  THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN 

in  the  same  state  which  supplied  the  two  generals 
just  mentioned.  Note.  There  must  be  some 
reason  for  this.  Ohio  also  produces  more  pig  iron 
than  New  York  and  all  the  New  England  States 
combined."  (Throughout,  he  is  earnest  and  se 
rious.) 

MRS.  K.  What  special  brand  of  tomfoolery  is  all 
that? 

CYRIL.  (Hushes  her)  Let'm  go  on.  It's  botany. 
(Readjusts  chair,  very  interested.) 

GEORGE.  (Reads)  "Again,  in  the  production  of 
agricultural  implements,  women's  knitted  goods  and 
iron  castings,  Ohio  stands " 

ATHALIE.  George,  I  just  hate  information! 
(Moves  impatiently  and  quickly  to  him.  Sits  on  L. 
arm  of  settee)  Are  you  quite  sober? 

GEORGE.     (Gravely)    Yes.    Quite. 

ATHALIE.  (Puts  her  arm  around  him)  George, 
you  mustn't  be  queer.  It's  not  your  line,  poor  dear. 
What  is  it?  (Rises — takes  his  hand  and  tries  to 
pull  him  up)  Come  somewhere  and  tell  me. 

CYRIL.  (Gently  reproachful,  grinning  over  his 
glass)  Why,  Athalie,  I  thought  the  boy  was  sup 
posed  to  be  here  on  Eleanor's  account ! 

GEORGE.  (Rises.  Detaching  himself  from  ATHA 
LIE  dreamily)  Has  anybody  seen  Miss  Price? 

MRS.  K.  (With  a  sour  smile)  Not  precisely! 
(Broken.) 

ATHALIE.  (Incredulous)  You're  not  interested 
in  provincial  adventuresses,  are  you,  George?  I've 
never  found  anything  unwholesome  about  you  be 
fore.  (Sits  again.) 

GEORGE.  (Ignoring  her,  crosses  to  c.  Mildly) 
I  would  like  to  find  Miss  Price. 

MRS.  K.     (Grimly)     From (Broken.) 

ATHALIE.  (Taking  up  her  speech  rather  hotly) 
Yes.  From  what  Stan  tells  us,  you're  going  to  see 
little  Miss  Price  under  unpleasant  circumstances ! 


THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN  117 

MRS.  K.  (Rises — moving  to  terrace)  As  a  sort 
of  reparation  to  us. 

CYRIL.  (Rises — goes  to  c.E.J  Let's  go  get  a  lit 
tle  open  air! 

(Exii   MRS.   KINNEY  and  CYRIL  to   terrace.) 

ATHALIE.  (Following.  Coolly,  no  pause,  cover 
ing  their  exit)  Quite,  oh,  Georgie !  Stan  means  to 
make  a  holy  show  of  the  poor  thing !  Possibly  you'll 
find  the  exhibition  trying? 

(Enter  PRUITT,  troubled — speaks  quickly  as  he  en 
ters.) 

PRUITT.  I  beg  pardon,  but  there's  a  person  that 
insists  on  seeing  Miss — Eleanor.  He  can't  see  her 
now — (Turning  to  RV  protesting) — oh,  no,  kindly 
wait  in  the  hall — not  in  here ! 

(^SAM  WILSON  enters  briskly  RV  very  determined. 
He  wears  a  new  Hart,  Shaffner  and  Marx 
ready-made  $13  suit  that  doesn't  quite  fit;  a 
preposterous  green  hat  of  Tyrolean  model  and 
American  make.  GEORGE  and  ATHALIE,  she  up 
terrace,  regard  him  dumbfoundedly.) 

SAM.  (As  he  enters)  You  go  tell  her  just  what 
I  told  you !  Say  it's  somebody  from  Centreville — I 
want  to  surprise  her. 

ATHALIE.  More  from  Ohio?  Why  don't  you 
kiss  him,  George?  (She  is  up  at  terrace  about  to 
exit.) 

SAM.  (Wheeling  suspiciously,  crosses  to  c.) 
What? 

ATHALIE.  (To  SAM )  This  gentleman  adores  the 
middle  West.  Tell  him  all  about  it.  Be  woolly. 
He'll  love  you !  (Exits  to  terrace.) 


ii8  THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN 

PRUITT.     Indeed,  you'd  best  wait  in  the  hall ! 

SAM.  (Crisply)  You  wouldn't  be  tellin'  me 
where  to  wait — if  you  knew  who  I  was. 

GEORGE.  (Sudden  idea)  By  Jove!  /  know! 
I've  got  you  perfectly  ! 

SAM.     What? 

GEORGE.  I  mean  to  say,  I  know  who  you  are, 
you  see:  Pruitt,  you  needn't  wait  and  don't — ah — 
mention  him  to  anybody. 

(TRUITT   exits,  worried  but  acquiescent.) 

SAM.  (On  his  guard)  I  know  who  you  are, 
too.  You  were  with  her  father  when  he  came  for 
her.  (He  reaches  out — takes  GEORGE'S  hand  and 
shakes  it.) 

GEORGE.  Yes,  and  you  were  the  neighbor  boy 
that  made  such  a  noise  .  .  .  shouting — "El-a-an- 
aw." 

SAM.  (Puzzled)  "El-e-an-aw  ?"  Oh,  you  mean 
Ellunner ! 

GEORGE.  (After  a  thought)  Ah— "Ellunerr"  ? 
It's  just  possible  we  mean  the  same  thing- — that  is, 
Miss  Howitt? 

SAM.  (Emphatically)  That's  certainly  who  I'm 
talkin'  about. 

GEORGE.  (With  no  expression  upon  his  face,  but 
with  voice  emphatic  and  serious)  I'm  very  glad  to 
see  you,  indeed !  (Offers  his  hand.) 

SAM.  (Shaking  hands  unsmilingly)  I  stood  not 
seein'  her  just  about  as  long  as  I  could  and  when 
Miss  Price  left  I  couldn't  stand  it,  so  I  sold  a  man 
dolin  and  my  bicycle  and  my  last  winter  suit  and 
mother's  lawn-mower  and  borrowed  twenty-eight 
dollars  from  the  bank  on  my  note  and  hit  an  ex 
cursion  to  New  York  City  and  trolleyed  from  there. 
When  I  make  up  my  mind  to  do  a  thing  I  do  it, 
and  it's  time  I  saw  Eleanor,  and  time  she  saw  me  I 


THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN  119 

GEORGE.  (Gravely)  You — ah — feel  that  her 
sentiments (Broken.) 

SAM.     Why,  we're  just  as  good  as  engaged. 

GEORGE.     "Just  as  good  ?" 

SAM.  We're  going  to  be.  It's  the  same  thing — 
practically.  (Quietly — facing  front)  I  need  her 
and  she'll  have  a  wonderful  life. 

GEORGE.    Ah — you  think  she  feels — ah? 

(Bus.    He  takes  a  letter — not  in  an  envelope — from 
his  pocket.) 

SAM.  Look  here.  Here's  the  last  letter  her 
mother  got  from  her  just  before  I  started.  She 
gave  it  to  me,  and  she  thought  it  was  a  good  thing 

I  was  coming.  Read  the  last  line It's  about 

me.  (Giving  letter  to  GEORGE.,) 

GEORGE.  (Reading)  Ah — "Lovely  new  life  all 
just  ivhat  I  dreamed." 

SAM.     No,  no — the  last  line. 

GEORGE.  "Though  sometimes — sometimes — just 
for  a  minute — I  feel  sort  of  queer — like  being  home 
sick.  How  is  Sam  Wilson?" 

SAM.     That  tells  it,  don't  it? 

GEORGE.  (Puzzled,  re-reading)  "How  is  Sam 
Wilson?"  Sam  Wilson.  Is  that  one  of  their — ah 
— menage  ? 

SAM.  Who?  It's  me!  (Taking  letter  from  him) 
Look  at  it :  "homesick — how  is  Sam  Wilson  ?"  I'm 
Sam  Wilson.  Wait  till  she  sees  me,  and  you'll 
understand ! 

GEORGE.  (Staring  at  him)  I've  encountered  a 
great  many  types,  t>ut,  I  mean  to  say,  you  do  strike 
me  as  a  most  remarkable  young  man ! 

SAM.  You've  got  to  be  remarkable  these  days  if 
you're  going  to  get  where  I'm  going ! 

GEORGE.  More  and  more  the  central  West  re 
veals  itself  as  a  marvelous  place !  It's  queer,  cer- 


120  THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN 

tainly,  but  it  really  seems  one's  duty  to  try  to 
comprehend  it ! 

SAM.  (Stepping  back,  looking  him  over)  The 
way  I  size  you  up  you  must  belong"  here — East. 

GEORGE.  I  hope  you'll  forgive  me  if  I'm  still 
able  to  say  "Thank  God  I  do !" 

SAM.  Yes;  everybody  ought  to  stick  up  for  his 
own  place — no  matter  what  he  really  thinks  of  it. 

(Sits  on  couch  R.C.  Pulling  up  each  trouser  leg  in 
an  awkward  manner.  Crosses  his  legs.  Seri 
ously.  SAM  never  has  a  gleam  of  humor.) 

GEORGE.  (Blank  expression)  And,  of  course, 
one  ought  to  be  polite  about  someone  else's  part  of 
the  country — no  matter  what  he  really  thinks  of 
it! 

SAM.  (Briskly)  That's  the  way  /  do.  (Slaps 
sole  of  right  shoe.) 

WARNING  VOICES 

GEORGE.     (Mildly)     I'm  trying  to. 

SAM.     It  makes  friends  for  you. 

GEORGE.     I  was  hoping  it  might  make  one. 

SAM.  (Leaning  back — arms  outstretched)  I 
found  that  out  years  and  years  ago ! 

GEORGE.  (Polite  tone,  almost  genial)  I  believe 
7  might  have  discovered  things  like  that,  at  the — ah 
— evidently  early  age  at  which  you  did — if  I'd  had 
perhaps  just  a  little  more — ah — self-assurance. 

SAM.  (Easily)  Yes,  everybody  ought  to  have 
some,  A  little,  anyway. 

GEORGE.     Mr.  Wilson,  let  me  speak  frankly 

SAM.  I'm  always  frank.  It  pays.  The  more 
you  speak  out  the  more  you  get  to  be  believed— 
especially  about  yourself. 

GEORGE.     (Steps    back)      Frankly    then,    there's 


THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN  121 

something  about  you  that  convinces  me  you  will 
get  what  you  want. 

SAM.     Why,  certainly! 

VOICES  OFF  R.U. 

GEORGE.  Just  now  you  want  to  see  Eleanor,  ah, 
I  mean  Miss  Howitt. 

SAM.  (Rises  and  goes  to  him  at  c.)  Well  _ 
what  do  you  suppose  I  gave  my  note  at  the  bank, 
sold  my  mandolin,  mother's  lawn-mower  and 
my  -  (Broken.) 

GEORGE.  You  happen  to  arrive  rather  in  a  time 
of  difficulty,  you  see.  (Voices  again)  Would  you 
mind  --  (Pauses,  glancing  toward  up  R.J 

SAM.  All  I  want's  to  surprise  Eleanor.  Then 
you'll  see. 

^  GEORGE.  ^  There's  a  rather  dreadful  phrase— 
"phychologica-1  moment"  —  what?  Do  you  mind 
waiting  for  it? 

SAM.     Where'll  I  wait? 

GEORGE.  (Pointing  to  door  Rj  Just  yonder.  I 
think  you'll  find  a  trunk  there—  to  sit  on,  I  mean 
to  sa. 


to  say. 

SAM.     (Going  slowly,  distrust  fully.    Turns)    You 
arent  trying  to  be  funny  with  me? 

GEORGE.     Ah—  this  isn't  a  funny  morning. 

(Voices  on  terrace,) 
SAM.    Well  - 

GEORGE.     (Hastily)     And  would  you  mind—  ah 

•  —  hurrying? 

(Exit  SAM  R.E.  GEORGE  turns  his  back  to  front,  his 
hands  behind  him.  Goes  to  R.C.  HOWITT  en 
ters  L.U.E.,  frowningly  alert  and  grave;  gives 
GEORGE  a  short  look,  then  comes  down  steps- 
goes  L.  to  above  mantel  —  pushes  wall  button  _ 
then  goes  up  to  L.  of  steps.) 


122  THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN 

HOWITT.  (Speaking  to  off,  up  c.  quietly)  Will 
you  come  in,  please  ? 

( MRS.  KINNEY,  CYRIL  and  ATHALIE  enter  from  ter 
race.  HOWITT  waits  till  they  have  come  down. 
PRUITT  enters  down  R.) 

PRUITT.  (As  he  goes  L.  to  table)  i  told  Miss 
Price.  She  is  here,  sir.  (Gets  tray  of  dishes  and 
exits  up  R.) 

(Exits.     NANCY  enters  down  R.) 

NANCY.  (Gravely  to  all)  Good  morning".  (She 
comes  down  slowly.) 

GEORGE.  (Gravely)  Good  morning,  f GEORGE 
stands  looking  at  her.) 

(MRS.  KINNEY  comes  down  to  couch  R.    CYRIL  L. 
of  C.E.    ATHALIE  R.  of  C.E.  on  landing.) 

HOWITT.  (To  others)  It's  very  disagreeable, 
but  this  young  woman — (A  feiv  steps  toward 
NANCYJ —  included  you  in  her  insult  to  us  last  night. 
I  thought  you  should  be  here. 

NANCY.  (Going  to  him  to  up  c.)  Mr.  Howitt — 
(Voice  brave  but  a  little  tremulous) — you  are  going 
to  let  me  see  Eleanor? 

HOWITT.  (Significantly)  Yes,  we  are!  (Turn 
ing  to  L.u.Ej  All  right,  Maud. 

fMAUD  comes  in  L.U.E.     ELEANOR,  very  pale,  fol 
lows  her,  coming  down.) 

NANCY.  (Stepping  toward  her)  Dear 

( MAUD  steps  between)  Mr.  Howitt,  I  want  to  speak 
to  her  alone. 

HOWITT.     (Shortly  but  quickly)     Not  at  all. 


THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN  123 

MRS.  K.     (Sharply)     I  suppose  we're  to  expect 

some  sort  of  apology  from (Broken.) 

HOWITT.     No. 

(CYRIL  sits  on  arm  of  chair  L.  of  C.E.    GEORGE  at 
lower  R.  end  of  piano.) 

MAUD.  (Quickly)  Good  gracious !  She  doesn't 
understand  apologies!  I  think  you'll  be  satisfied, 
though,  Janie ! 

(Crosses  back  of  HOWITT — goes  to  chair  L.  of  table. 
ATHALIE  goes  down  R.C.  to  back  of  piano.    MRS. 

KlNNEY  sitS COUCh  R.C.J 

HOWITT.  (With  arm  around  her)  I  want  to 
make  one  thing  clear  at  once.  Maud's  explained  to 
all  of  you,  I  believe;  and  Eleanor  perfectly  under 
stands  that  we  deceived  her  about  the  price  of 
Maud's  brooch  because  we  wanted  to  give  her  a  lit 
tle  added  happiness  in  thinking  she  gave  all  of  it. 
That  is  understood,  isn't  it,  dear? 

ELEANOR.  (In  low  voice)  Yes.  (Drops  down  to 
chair  R.  of  table.) 

HOWITT.     Very  well.     Now,  Eleanor. 

(MAUD  sits  in  chair  L.  of  table.) 

ELEANOR.  (Can't  face  NANCY — turns  front) 
Nancy,  we've  had  your  trunk  packed —  (Broken.) 

NANCY.  (Steps  to  her)  You've  listened  to  them 
pretty  long,  Eleanor.  Don't  you  want  to  hear  what 
/  have  to  say  ? 

ELEANOR.  (Drops  down  front  of  chair)  It's — 
it's  unnecessary.  (Unhappily,  jerkily,  and  like  a  les 
son  committed  to  memory)  Nancy,  we've  had  your 
trunk  packed  and  your  luggage  has  been  brought 
down  arid  put  in  the  hall 


I24  THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN 

Ho  WITT.     (Indicating  R.E.  )    Just  yonder! 

ELEANOR.  Mamma  made  a  great  mistake  in  sug 
gesting  your  coming  here,  and,  of  course (She 

turns  unhappily  to  HOWITT.  HOWITT  nods  to  con 
tinue.  Going  on) — of  course,  that  makes  me  doubt 
her  judgment  in  the  future.  We  feel,  though,  the 
whole  thing  has  been  a  lesson  and  the  best  thing  to 
do — after  you've  given  Maud  her  property — is  to 
have  as  little  scandal  as  we  can.  (NANCY  moves 
slowly  down  to  her)  Nancy,  the  way  you've  acted 
here  has  made  it  plain  that  Maud  is  right  and 
you — (Gulping) — were  jealous  because  Uncle  Ben 
left  it  all  to  me,  and  so  you  came  to  see  what  you 

could  get  for  yourself ^NANCY  takes  brooch 

out  of  her  pocket.  She  lifts  the  brooch  in  its  case 
in  her  L.  hand,  for  ELEANOR  to  take.  No  pause  for 
this.  NANCY  gives  the  brooch  without  looking  at 
it;  looking  front.  Going  on  as  she  takes  the  brooch, 
not  glancing  at  it)  And  you  thought  you  could 
keep  this — this —  (Sinks  into  chair  R.  of  table. 
Abruptly  turns  to  her  father,  wailing)  Papa!  I 
can't !  When  I  look  at  Nancy,  all  those  things  don't 
sound  true  any  more ! 

HOWITT.  (Coming  down  to  back  of  her  chair. 
Hotly  to  all.  Trying  to  hypnotise  her)  Do  you  see 
what  a  poor  little  tender  heart  she's  been  imposing 
on?  Now,  dear. 

ELEANOR.  Nancy,  the  servants  will  see  that  your 
luggage  is  taken  to  the  station. 

MAUD.  And  you  might  suggest  to  Miss  Price 
that  there's  a  pleasant  waiting-room  at  the  station. 

(Lightly.    Movement  half  of  protest  from  GEORGE.^ 

ELEANOR.     Papa !    Can't  I  stop  now? 

ATHALIE.  (Loudly,  as  ELEANOR  clings  to  HOW 
ITT,  pleading)  Look  at  George  Reynolds  staring  at 
Miss  Price!  I  believe  she's  making  him  actually 
sick! 


THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN  125 

GEORGE.  You're  absolutely  right!  She's  been 
making  me  sick  ever  since  she  got  here.!  fMAUD 
and  ATHALIE  and  MRS.  KINNEY  laugh  approvingly) 
I  mean  to  say  of  me — and  the  whole  beastly  outfit 
of  us — I  mean  to  say— and  so  forth — and  that's 
what  I  mean  to  say ! 

ELEANOR.     (Quickly)    Papa!    Can't  I? 

HOWITT.  (With  indignation,  ignoring  GEORGEJ 
No,  we  might  like  to  be4  lenient,  but  this  is  a  case  of 

right  and  wrong.  Everyone  here  sees  that 

(Broken,) 

GEORGE.  (Crossing  to  c.  Breaking  out  after  a 
long  period  of  self-repression)  Oh,  I  say !  Isn't  it 
about  time  you  see  what  everyone  here  does  see? 

(General  exclamation.     ATHALIE  drops  down  to  R. 
of  piano.) 

HOWITT.  (Hotly,  turning  toward  him)  What's 
that? 

GEORGE.  (Hotly)  That  Miss  Price  knew  this 
little  girl  had  no  business  making  such  an  extrava 
gant  present  to  her  stepmother  and  didn't  know  the 
cost  of  it  at  that !  Eleanor  hasn't  been  able  to  talk 
of  it  with  her  till  now — and  she's  got  the  thing  in 
her  hand,  hasn't  she? 

CNANCY  comes  down  a  step.) 

HOWITT  and  MAUD.  (Speaking  almost  together, 
fiercely)  What  of  that?  What  are  you 

GEORGE.  Eleanor's  the  person  that  paid  for  it 
and  she's  the  one  Miss  Price  took  it  for.  Well,  she's 
got  it,  hasn't  she?  (Turning  sharply  to  NANCYJ 
Miss  Price,  you'll  be  wrong  if  you  think — well, 
they're  not  all — like  us! 

NANCY.     (Very  quickly)     I  see  that — now! 

HOWITT.     Are  you  through  interrupting? 


126  THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN 

GEORGE.  It's  perfectly  plain  Miss  Price  took  a 
chance  of  this  kind  of  thing  and  that  she  did  it  to 
watch  over  her  cousin.  You  want  to  go  on  making 
Eleanor  insult  her 

(General  exclamation.) 


ATHALIE.    What's  the  matter  with 
George  ? 

MAUD.     He's  crazy! 


Together. 


HOWITT.     (Going  up  L.c.J  Oh,  piffle ! 

MRS.  K.     What  a  rotten  row ! 

GEORGE.  (Crossing  to  HOWITT.  NANCY  goes 
R.C.  Going  on)  You  put  your  daughter  through  a 
few  more  such  stunts  and  you'll  lose  her,  you  fool, 
and  serve  you  jolly  well  right ! 

HOWITT.  (Violently  to  GEORGE j  Have  you  fin 
ished? 

GEORGE.  I'll  leave  the  house  when  I  have!  But 
I'll  say  one  thing  first!  (Coming  down  a  few  steps 
to  ELEANORJ  Either  Eleanor  isn't  worth  Miss 
Price's  making  the  sacrifice  of  this  humiliation  for 
— or  if  she  is  worth  it  she  won't  stand  for  it. 

ELEANOR.  (Miserable,  quickly)  I  ought  to  have 
stayed  in  Centreville.  I  don't  know  what  to  do! 
(Head  on  back  of  chair — she  breaks  down.) 

(Under  cover  of  this  GEORGE  has  gone  to  door  R.E.  ; 
he  speaks  instantly  upon  ELEANOR'S  speech  and 
all  the  action  is  swift.  NANCY  goes  to  ELEANOR 
to  comfort  her,  but  is  prevented  by  HOWITT, 
who  comes  between — she  goes  up  c.  a  bit.) 

GEORGE.     (Loudly)     Come  in,  Mr.  Wilson! 

( SAM  enters  quickly  to  c.,  grinning.  NANCY  comes 
down  c. — takes  his  hand.  Instantly  at  sight  of 
him  ELEANOR  utters  his  name  ^mth  a  loud  out 
cry.) 


THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN  127 

ELEANOR.       (Going     to     him)       Oh,     Sammy! 
(GEORGE  crosses  proudly  to  R.cJ    Sammy! 
SAM.     Eleanor ! 

(She  seizes  his  hand,  not  pausing  an  instant,  and 
runs,  taking  him  along  with  her,  to  R.E. — they 
exit.  General  exclamation.  CYRIL  comes  down 
steps  to  back  of  piano,  looking  R.) 

HOWITT.     What  are  you  doing?         | 

MAUD.     (Rising)     Who  on  earth  is  f-  Together. 
this  idiot  boy  ?  J 

HOWITT.  (Looks  at  MAUD  in  dismay.  Follow 
ing  her,  anxiously)  Eleanor,  where  are  you  going? 

ELEANOR.  (Off-stage,  as  she  exits  with  SAM) 
No,  no,  no,  Papa ! 

( HOWITT  following  her  off.) 

MAUD.  (Crossing  to  GEORGE  at  c.  To  GEORGE. 
As  HOWITT  exits)  Who  was  that  boy? 

GEORGE.  All  I  know  is  he  said  his  name  was 
Wilson  and  he  was  going  to  be  engaged  to  Eleanor. 

MAUD.     What ! 

(MAUD  exits  hastily  R.J 

ATHALIE.  At  least  she's  through  with  Miss 
Price! 

CYRIL.     Yes!     (Going  R. — follows  them  off.) 
MRS.  K.     Let's  see  what's  up ! 

(Exeunt  the  three  RV  quickly.    GEORGE  remaining  c. 
— looks  after  them.) 

NANCY.  (Sits  R.  of  table — head  bowed.  To 
GEORGE,)  Thank  you, 


128  THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN 

GEORGE.  (To  NANCYJ  You  said — you  knew  we 
weren't  all,  like  this. 

NANCY.     Yes. 

GEORGE.     Maybe  not  even — me? 

NANCY.     No.    Not  "even" — you. 

GEORGE.     Where  are  you  going? 

NANCY.     (Gently)     Why — back  to  Ohio. 

GEORGE.     Without 

NANCY.     No.    Not  without  her. 

GEORGE.  (Doubtfully)  They're  at  her  pretty 
hard,  I'll  venture.  I'm  afraid  they  won't  let  her 
take  even  Mr.  Wilson  very  seriously. 

NANCY.  He's  going  to  be  a  great  man,  and  I  be 
lieve  in  him  now,  as  much  as  he  does  in  himself. 

GEORGE.  You  seem — to  have  accomplished  a  mor 
tal  disturbance,  Miss  Price. 

NANCY.     I'm  sorry. 

GEORGE.  Ah — just  for  a  minute  you  seem  to  have 
forgotten  how  conceited  I  am. 

NANCY.  Why,  I  did  forget  that,  just  for  a  min 
ute! 

GEORGE.  /  meant  in  me.  A — a  mortal  disturb 
ance  in  me.  I've  been — ah — ignorant.  (Alluding 
to  his  book)  But  I've  been  studying.  You  see,  I 
always  got  Ohio  and  Iowa  and  even  Idaho  all  mixed 
up.  But  now  I  see  they're  not  the  same  thing  at 
all!  For  instance,  when  it  comes  to  the  manufac 
ture  of  trunks  and  bags  and  suitcases,  Iowa  and 
Idaho  are  simply  nowhere.  And,  for  instance — that 
is  to  say:  Well,  I  find  it  very  pleasant  to  think 
about  Ohio. 

NANCY.  (Gently,  gravely)  And  so  you're  try 
ing  to  keep  me  thinking  of  something  pleasant  while 
I'm  waiting. 

GEORGE.  (With  a  little  apologetic  laugh)  Uh — 
no.  I'm  only  trying  to  keep  you  waiting.  I  know 
I've  convinced  you  I'm  utterly  an  ass — but  I — I'm 
not! 


THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN  129 

NANCY.     (Absently)    No,  no. 
GEORGE.     Well!    That's  quite  a  startling  admis 
sion  from  you! 

(TRUITT  enters  R.  with  NANCY'S  hat  and  coat.    Goes 
to  R.c.J 

PRUITT.  I  beg  pardon,  madam,  but  the  luggage 
wagon  is  here,  and  we've  loaded  your  box  upon  it — 
your  trunk,  I  mean  to  say. 

GEORGE.  (Sharply)  Get  my  bags  down  from 
my  room,  will  you,  and  put  them  on  the  wagon? 

PRUITT.  Yes,  sir.  (Crosses  to  NANCY — gives 
her  her  hat  and  coat)  Beg  pardon.  But  Miss 
Howitt  has  ordered  the  wagon  to  wait  for  her  own 
trunk. 

GEORGE.     By  Jove,  has  she? 

PRUITT.  Yes,  sir.  Miss  Howitt  and  two  maids 
are  packing  Miss  Howitt's  trunks  and  that  young 
man  is  standing  around  talking  a  great  deal  and 
there's  quite  a  commotion.  I  fear (Broken.) 

("ELEANOR  runs  in  R.E.    SAM  stands  grinning  at  R.E. 
PRUITT  exits  R.E.) 

ELEANOR.  (Breathless)  Nancy,  if  you  just 
hadn't  stood  there — if  you'd  said  anything  back — 
(Crosses  front  of  GEORGE  to  L.C. ) — I've  told  them — 
they  can  have  the  brooch — and  the  house  for  the 
rest  of  the  time — and  everything  I've  brought  here — 
they  can  have  the  whole  thing — it's  cheap  at  the 
price!  (She  runs  to  NANCY — falls  on  her  knees  at 
her  feet — putting  arms  around  her — pause — SAM 
takes  a  feiv  steps  to  R.c. — she  continues)  Wait  for 
me !  We'll  go  as  quick  as  we  can !  I  want  to  be 
gone — to  mother (Broken.  All  fast  here.) 

WARNING  CURTAIN 


130  THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN 

NANCY.     (Seriously)    With  Sam  and  me? 

(ELEANOR  holds  out  her  hand  to  SAM — he  swells  out 
his  chest — crosses  to  her — takes  it.) 

ELEANOR.  Sam's  got  half  of  a  round-trip  ticket 
left  to  go  back  on ;  he's  so  independent !  (Looks  up 
at  SAM — gives  his  hand  a  strong  shake.) 

(NANCY  holds  out  her  hand  to  him — he  takes  it — 
shakes  it  once — pulls  ELEANOR  to  her  feet. 
Puts  her  R.  arm  in  his  left.  Beckons  twice  with 
his  head  for  her  to  come.  They  start  to  go  R. 
— stop  c. — seeing  GEORGE — SAM  slaps  him  twice 
on  the  chest — puts  out  his  hand — GEORGE  takes 
it.  SAM  gives  it  a  strong  single  shake.  Swells 
out  his  chest  and  struts  with  ELEANOR  to  R.E. 
and  exits — all  this  done  with  sincerity.) 

NANCY.  (Quietly,  thoughtfully)  Yet  I  don't 
think  he's  good  enough  for  her. 

GEORGE.  You  didn't  think  /  was  good  enough 
for  her  either,  did  you? 

NANCY.     No — I  didn't. 

GEORGE.  (Helping  her  on  with  her  coat)  Well, 
everything  you've  done  here  shows  that  you  think 
more  of  Eleanor  than  you  do  of  yourself.  God 
knows  why !  Perhaps  you'd  think  what  wasn't  good 
enough  for  Eleanor  might  be (Broken.) 

PRUITT.  (Entering  with  a  suitcase)  Beg  par 
don,  but  did  you  wish  to  take  this  with  you  in  the 

(Broken.) 

GEORGE.  (Sharply)  Here,  give  that  to  me! 
(Taking  suitcase.) 

(PRUITT  exits  R.) 
NANCY.    Put  it  down.    It's  wicker. 


THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN  131 

GEORGE.  Wicker?  It's  my  whole  education. 
(Gently)  Couldn't  I  carry  it  for  you? 

NANCY.     To  the  car  ? 

GEORGE.  No,  to  New  York  where  you'll  take 
your  train  for  Ohio,  and  I'll  take  mine  for — the 
training  camp  at  Plattsburgh.  (Quietly.) 

NANCY.  You're  going  to  Pittsburgh?  (Be 
wildered.) 

GEORGE.  Due  to-morrow.  Maybe  I  won't  turn 
out  such  a  bad  old  American  rattlesnake  after  all. 
If  I  strike 

NANCY.  (In  a  hushed  voice,  but  with  fife) 
Strike  hard ! 

GEORGE.  (Noting  her  face,  which  is  startled  but 
alight)  Will  you — love  me — if  I  do? 

NANCY.     (Breathless)    Everybody  will! 

( GEORGE  puts  suitcase  under  his  left  arm — extends 
his  right  hand  to  her.  Lifting  her  face  bravely. 
Their  hands  meet,  but  they  do  not  embrace  or 
kiss.) 

CURTAIN 
Playing  time — 23  minutes. 


ACT  I 
PROPERTY  PLOT 

Bookcase    filled    with    book    backings.      Below 
door  R. 

Bookcase    filled    with    book    backing's.      Above 
door  R. 

Bookcase  filled  with  book  backings.     Up  c.  be 
tween  windows. 

Mantel — on  flat  L. — below  door. 

Fire-irons,  fire-screen  (tapestry),  fire-dogs — grate 
brass  fender — in  fireplace  L. 

Piano  and  stool — off  stage  R. 

Square  piano — R.C. 

Piano  bench — (tapestry  top) — R.  of  piano. 

Side  chair  (upholstered  mahogany)  back  of  piano. 

Side  chair  (upholstered  mahogany)  below  book 
case  down  R. 

Side  chair  (upholstered  mahogany)  front  of  win 
dow  L.C. — (back  to  front). 

Arm  chair  (upholstered  mahogany)  below  mantel 
and  table — L. 

Couch — 'front  of  piano  R.C. 

Footstool — front  of  couch  R.C. 

Couch — front  of  mantel  L.  (facing  it). 

Tall  stand — R.  of  window  R.C. 

Checker  board  top  table  front  of  window  R.C. 

Waste  basket — R.  of  window  L.C. 

Lacquer  table — L.  of  window  L.C. 
132 


THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN  133 


Round  table  —  below  mantel    (in  jog)    L.^- 
and  gold  scarf  over  it. 

Glass-cased  wax  flowers  —  on  round  table  L. 

Gate-le'g    table  —  L.    end    of    piano  —  (left    wing 
raised). 

Black   side  chair    (green    seat)  —  below   gate-leg 
table  R.C. 

Large  carpet  covering  entire  stage  (tan). 

Window  curtains. 

Draperies  over  windows  (green  velvet). 

Window-seat  cushions. 

Cushion  on  each  window  seat. 

Cushion  on  chair  back  of  piano. 

Grass  mat  and  bed  of  flowers  —  outside  door  up  L. 
—  (roses  in  hedge). 

Flower  beds  —  outside  —  on  a  level  with  windows. 

On  Mantel 

Marble  clock  c. 
Sword  hanging  above. 
Large  framed  picture  above. 
Metal  figures  of  man  and  woman  R.  and  L.  of 
clock. 

White  and  gold  china  vases  —  each  end. 
Yellow  satin  scarf. 

On  Couch  R.C. 

Round  cushion  R. 
Square  pink  cushion  L. 

On  Gate-Leg  Table  R.C. 

Flowered  scarf,  yellow  border. 

Five  books  in  book  ends  of  Shakespeare's  bust. 

Folded  newspaper. 

Book  of  astronomy. 


i34  THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN 

On  L.  Flat — Below  Mantel 

Picture  of  Washington. 

Family  photograph  in  round  mahogany  frame. 

On  Bookcase  Down  R. 

Bust  of  Lincoln  c. 
Flowered  vases — R.  and  L. 
Picture  of  Grant  hanging  above. 

On  Bookcase  up  R. 

Bust  of  Dante  c. 
Green  vase  L. 
White  vase  R. 
Picture  above. 

On  Lacquer  Table  up  L.C. 

Blue  fringed  scarf. 

Covered  work  basket. 

Three  red  books. 

Glass  candalabra. 

Round  picture  on  wall  above. 

Paper  catcher  hanging  below  it. 

On  Piano  R.C. 
Music — large  chest  on  L.  end. 

On  Bookcase  up  c. 

Gold  bird — c. 

Glass  candlesticks  R.  and  L. 

Picture  of  Gen.  Sherman  hanging  above. 


THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN  135 

On  Tall  Stand  up  R. 

Big  china  lamp  and  globe  (top). 
Small  white  vase  (below). 

Picture  of  lady,  in  small  gold  frame  hanging  on 
wall  above. 

Side  Props 

Piano — off  R. 

Glass  flower  bowl  off  R. 

Astronomy — table  R.c. 

Newspaper — table  R.C. 

Song  "Absent"  on  piano  off  R. 

In  Bookcase  up  c. 

Cook  book. 

"Hamlet." 

Eleanor's  book. 

For  Nance  Price.— pair  of  folding  scissors.  Two 
open  market  baskets. — one  containing  wrapped  pack 
ages — the  other  three  boxes  of  strawberries — (one 
real)  daisies  and  sweetpeas  (real). 

LIGHTING 

Foots— -white— full  up.  Amber— 1/3  up.  1st— 
white— full  up.  Amber— J4  up. 

Borders— 4th  and  5th  white  and  blue— full  up. 
Brackets  R.  and  L.  of  mantel  (not  lighted). 
Table  lamp  up  R.  (not  lighted). 

ELECTRIC  DEPARTMENT 

8 — looo-watt  lamps, 
i — Bunch  light. 
2 — Brackets, 
i— Table  lamp. 


136  THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN 

ACT  II 
PROPERTY  PLOT 

One  large  grass  mat. — Four  small  grass  mats. 

Three  beds  of  flowers. 

One  mound  of  sunflowers. 

One  mound  of  hydrangeas. 

One  bunch  of  pink  roses — (in  hedge  up  R.). 

Two  urns  of  hydrangeas. 

Red  and  pink  ramblers  for  arbors — R.  and  L. 

Stone  bench  up  R. 

Wicker  settee,  with  two  cushions. 

Two  wicker  armchairs. 

One  wicker  table  (large). 

Two  wicker  tables  (small). 

Two  reed  chairs  (small,  round). 

One  green  grass  side  chair. 

One  red  grass  side  chair. 

Two  side  chairs. 

One  mahogany  armchair 

One  mahogany  square  table 

One  8xio  rug  }*  Interior. 

One  baby  grand  piano  and  stool 

One  screen 

SIDE  PROPS 

Victrola — (off  stage  up  L.). 

Two  records — "Dengozo"  and  "Pack  up  Your 
Troubles  in  Your  Old  Kit  Bag." 

Three  blankets  to  muffle  victrola. 

Train  clothes  in  entrance  L.U. 

Cigarettes  in  box  on  table  L.C. 

Matches  and  stand  on  table  L.C. 

Four  "sporty"  magazines  on  table  L.C. 

Card  case  and  cards  (printed) — for  "George 
Tewksberry  Reynolds  III." 


f 


s§ 
8 


THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN  137 

"Vanity  Fair"  (on  chair  R.  on  terrace). 
Wrist  watch  (for  Maud). 
Sheet  music — song  "Absent"  (on  piano). 
Wicker  suitcase — off  L.U.E. 
Newspaper — off  L.U.E. 
Bar  wagon — off  L.U.E.,  containing — 
Three  bottles   (Gordon  gin,  French  and  Italian 
Vermouth). 

Nine  cocktail  glasses. 
Napkin. 


— piece  of  glass. 
One  bowl  (ice). 
One  pair  of  tongs. 
Round  tray — bottom  of  wagon. 
Ash  tray  (on  table  back  of  settee  R.C.) 
Four  rickey  glasses  1 

Glass  of  straws         >on  table  R.  on  terrace. 
Tray  J 

Brooch  and  case  ( wrapped)  1   r      «-D1  <    „ 
Receipt  book  Lfewellert 

Receipt  in  envelope  fc   'n^er. 

Fountain  pen  J 

LIGHT  PLOT— AT  RISE 

Foots — White — full  up.     Amber — 1/3  up.     Blue 

—54  up- 

Borders — White — full  up.  Blue — full  up.  Am 
ber— 1/3  up. 

Spots — Frost — looo-wt.  lamps — Y*  and  Y*  blue 
and  frost. 

FINISH  OF  ACT 

Foots — white — 54  up.  Amber — out.  Blue — 54 
up. 

On  cue  change  slowly  to  white — 2/3  up. 


138  THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN 

Borders — Blue — full  up.    Amber — out. 

Spots  change  to  steel  blue  and  frost.  looo-wt, 
lamps — change  to  marks. — A  little  frost  still  uncov 
ered. 

ELECT.  DEPT. 

Nine  i ooo- watt  lamps. 
Two  spots  on  bridge. 
One  baby  spot  in  foots  c. 

ACT  III 
PROPERTY  PLOT 

Wine-colored  carpet  (covering  entire  stage). 

8xi o  rug  in  entrance  R. 

Large  rug  (from  C.E.  to  steps  c.). 

Two  small  rugs — (front  of  windows  R.C.  and  L.C.). 

Two  urns  of  hydrangeas — (on  piers  R.  and  L. 
of  steps  off-stage  c.) 

Two  square  wicker  baskets  of  ferns  (on  rail  posts 
R.  and  L.  of  steps  c.). 

Two  wicker  flower-box  stands  of  ferns  (front  of 
windows  R.C.  and  L.C.). 

Two  round  wicker  baskets  of  ferns — (one  on 
R.  end  of  piano — one  on  table  up  L.).  Artificial 
ferns. 

Gray,  upholstered  armchair  (R.  of  C.E.). 

Gray,  upholstered  wing  chair  (L.  of  C.E.). 

Tapestry  upholstered  wing  chair  (down  L.  below 
mantel). 

Tapestry  upholstered  armchair  (down  R.  below 
R.E.). 

Wine-colored  carpet  on  stairs  c. 

Chintz  draperies  over  three  French  windows. 

Single  curtain  of  chintz  on  pole  (on  doors  up 
R.  and  L.). 


THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN  139 

Double  curtain  of  chintz  on  pole  (arch  down  R.). 
White  satin  curtains  on  French  windows  (drawn 
up). 

Two  prop,  tables  (off-stage  R.E.). 
Baby  grand  piano  and  stool. 
Settee  —  mahogany  —  (  front  of 


Two  cushions  on  settee  (x).  same 

Mahogany  library  table  (L.C.).  f  nattern 

Mahogany  armchair  (L.  of  table). 

Mahogany  side  chair  (R.  of  steps  c.).  J 

Straight  mahogany  armchair  (L.  of  steps  c.). 

Side  table,  mahogany  (below  rail  R.C.). 

Small  table,  mahogany  (up  R.). 

Small  table,  mahogany  (up  L.). 

Two  white  china  vases  (on  mantel  L.). 

Large  framed  picture  (over  mantel  L.). 

Club  fender  (in  fireplace  L.). 

Brass  fire  screen  (in  fireplace  L.), 

Fire  dogs  (in  fireplace  L.). 

Fire  irons  (in  fireplace  L.). 

Bunch  of  roses  (in  fireplace  L.). 

Blue  china  bowl  (on  table  up  R.C.). 

Matches  and  stand  (on  table  up  R.C.) 
^  Smoking  set  on  tray  consisting  of  match  stand  — 
cigarette  jar  (with  cigarettes),  ash  receiver  (on  table 
L.C.). 

*  Match  stand  on  tables  L.c.  and  up  R.C.  impor 
tant. 


SIDE  PROPS. 

After  dinner  coffee  service  (china)  on  large  tray 
with  handles  (off-stage  R.)  consisting  of — china  cof 
fee  pot — sugar  bowl — two  demitasse  cups — saucers 
— spoons — two  napkins. 


140  THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN 

Liqueur  set  on  tray — consisting  of  two  glass  de 
canters — four  liqueur  glasses  on  napkin   (off-stage 

R.). 

Train  cloths  (entrances — R. — R.U.E. — L.U.E.). 
Two  billiard  cues  (off-stage  L.U.E.). 
Necklace  (for  Maud). 

LIGHTING 

Foots — Whites — 24  up.    Amber — Full. 
Borders — 1st — Amber    and    white — full    up.      4- 
5th— -Blue—  full. 

ELECT.  DEPT. 


Five  looowatt  lamps. 
One  bunc'h  light. 
Two  strip  lights. 
One  table  lamp 
Four  brackets 


Alighted. 


ACT  IV 
PROPERTY  PLOT 

Same  as  Act  III. 

Strike  Coffee  service  and  liqueur  set — 'billiard  cues. 
Breakfast  set  on  very  large  tray  (on  table  L.C.) 
consisting  of — 
Coffee  pot. 
Sugar  bowl. 
Creamer. 

Two  coffee  cups  (coffee  poured). 
Two  saucers. 
Two  spoons. 
Two  knives. 
Two  forks. 


U  2 


K) 


J 

$  1? 

<  J  *"» 
i  a  j  c^ 
«  3?  ioo 


THE  COUNTRY  COUSIN 


141 


Two  breakfast  plates. 
Two  egg  cups. 
Two  napkins  (opened). 
Toast  rack 
Four  pieces  of  toast. 
One  tall  glass  (rickey). 

These  things  set  on  cloth  covering  entire  tray. 
Morning  paper  (on  table  L.C.). 
Cigarettes  in  holder  (on  table  L.C.). 
Letter    (written  in  ink — no  envelope)    for   Sam 
Wilson. 

Encyclopedia  volume  (for  George). 
Wicker  suitcase  (off  R.E.). 

LIGHT  PLOT 

Foots — white  and  amber — full  up. 
Borders — ist — white  and  amber — full  up.     4th — 
white  and  amber — full  up.    5th — white  and  amber — 
full  up. 

3 — looo-watt  lamps — up  R. — clear  frost. 
3 — looo-watt  lamps — up  L. — clear  frost. 
Change         Center  lamp  on  terrace  Act  III — dead  in 

from       <      Act  IV. 

Act  III         Change  blue  strips — to  white  strips. 
4  brackets  and  table  lamp — out. 
fc  Bunch  in  R.  entrance — white  and  amber. 


The  Touch-Down 

A  comedy  in  four  acts,  by  Marion  Short.  8  males,  6  females,  but 
any  number  of  characters  can  be  introduced  in  the  ensembles.  Cos 
tumes  modern.  One  interior  scene  throughout  the  play.  Time,  2y2 
hours. 

This  play,  written  for  the  use  of  clever  amateurs,  is  the  story  of 
life  in  Siddell,  a  Pennsylvania  co-educational  college.  It  deals  with 
the  vicissitudes  and  final  triumph  of  the  Siddell  Football  Eleven,  and 
the  humorous  and  dramatic  incidents  connected  therewith. 

"The  Touch-Down"  has  the  true  varsity  atmosphere,  college  songs 
are  sung,  and  the  piece  is  lively  and  entertaining  throughout.  High 
schools  will  make  no  mistake  in  producing  this  play.  We  strongly 
recommend  it  as  a  high-class  and  well-written  comedy. 

Price,  30  Cents. 

Hurry,  Hurry,  Hurry 

A  comedy  in  three  acts,  by  LeRoy  Arnold.  5  males,  4  females- 
One  interior  scene.  Costumes  modern.  Plays  2%  hours. 

The  story  is  based  on  the  will  of  an  eccentric  aunt.  It  stipulates 
that  her  pretty  niece  must  be  affianced  before  she  is  twenty-one,  and 
married  to  her  fiance  within  a  year,  if  she  is  to  get  her  spinstef 
relative's  million.  Father  has  nice  notions  of  honor  and  fails  to  tell 
daughter  about  the  will,  so  that  she  may  make  her  choice  untranv 
meled  by  any  other  consideration  than  that  of  true  love.  The  action 
all  takes  place  in  the  evening  the  midnight  of  which  will  see  her 
reach  twenty-one.  Time  is  therefore  short,  and  it  is  hurry,  hurry, 
hurry,  if  she  is  to  become  engaged  and  thus  save  her  father  fronfl 
impending  bankruptcy. 

The  situations  are  intrinsically  funny  and  the  dialogue  is  sprightly. 
The  characters  are  natural  and  unaffected  and  the  action  moves  with 
a  snap  such  as  should  be  expected  from  its  title.  Price,  30  Cent* 

The  Varsity  Coach 

A  three-act  play  of  college  life,  by  Marion  Short,  specially  adapted 
to  performance  by  amateurs  or  high  school  students.  5  males  6 
females,  but  any  number  of  boys  and  girls  may  be  introduced  in  the 
action  of  the  play.  Two  settings  necessary,  a  college  boy's  room  and 
the  university  campus.  Time,  about  2  hours. 

Like  many  another  college  boy,  "Bob"  Selby,  an  all-^und  popular 
college  man,  becomes  possessed  of  the  idea  that  athletic  prowess  is 
more  to  be  desired  than  scholarship.  He  is  surprised  in  the  midst  of 
a  "spread"  in  his  room  in  Regatta  week  by  a  visit  from  his  aunt 
who  is  putting  him  through  college.  Aunt  Serena,  "a  lady  of  the  old 
school  and  the  dearest  little  woman  in  the  whole  world  *"  has  hastened 
to  make  this  visit  to  her  adored  nephew  under  the  mistaken  impression 
that  he  is  about  to  receive  the  Fellowes  prize  for  scholarship.  Her 
grief  and  chagrin  when  she  learns  that  instead  of  the  prize  Robert 
has  received  "a  pink  card,"  which  is  equivalent  to  suspension  for  poor 
scholarship,  gives  a  touch  of  pathos  to  an  otherwise  jolly  comedy  of 
college  life.  How  the  repentant  Robert  more  than  redeems  himself, 
carries  off  honors  at  the  last,  and  in  the  end  wins  Ruth,  the  faithful 
little  sweetheart  of  the  "Prom"  and  the  classroom,  makes  a  story  of 
dramatic  interest  and  brings  out  very  clearly  certain  phases  of  modern 
college  life.  There  are  several  opportunities  for  the  introduction  of 
college  songs  and  "stunts."  Price,  30  Cents. 

(The  Above  Are  Subject  to  Royalty  When  Produced) 
SAMUEL  FRENCH,  28-30  West  38th  Street,  New  York  City 

Viw  and  Exaiicit  Omriotivi  Catalogue  Malted  Fre«  OB  Riowsl 


OCT  24  ]J32 

8    1933 
AW  24    1933 


ai 

a 

W 

m 

S 

U 

ca 

ar. 

be 

in 

in 


fei 

1 

nes 
cor. 
rec 
dm 


HOV 


SEP  20    1934 
OCT   26  1934 
AUG    11 

" 


FEB  13  1944 


irsity 
-.urnes 


medy 
'uft's 


ishes 
t  of 
icted 
is  a 

5    tO 

nk's 
inks 
s  to 
dis« 
but 
wer 

ions 
nts. 


an, 
y's 
ics 


is 
re 
>le 

rt- 
us 


DEC  I5t939 


REC'D  LD 

FEB  2  4  1961 


he 


LD  21-50W-8.-3; 

uataiogw  Mailid  Frei    ••  Requist 


.     UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 

*-         ••   .. 


FRENCH'S 

Standard  Library  Edition 

Includes  Plays  by 


Clyde  Pitch 
William  Gillette 
Augustus  Thomas 
George  Broadhurst 
Edward  £.  Kidder 
Percv  MacKaye 
Sir  Arthur  Conan  Doyle 
Louis  N.  Parker 
R.  C.  Carton 
Alfred  Sutro 
Richard  Harding  Davis 
Sir  Arthur  W.  Pinero 
Anthony  Hope 
Oscar  Wilde 
Haddon  Chambers 
Jerome  K.  Jerome 
Cosmo  Gordon  Lennox 
H.  V,  Esmond 
Mark  Swan 
Grace  L.  Furniss 
Marguerite  Merrington 
Hermann  Sudermann 
Rida  Johnson  Young 
Arthur  Law 
Rachel  Crothers 
Martha  Morton 
H.  A.  Du  Souchet 


Booth  Tarkington 
T.  Hartley  Manners 
James  Forbes 
James  Montgomery 
Wm.  C.  de  Mille 
Roi  Cooper  Megrue 
Edward  E.  Rose 
Israel  Zangwill 
Henry  Bernstein 
Harold  Brighouse 
Charming  Pollock 
Harry  Durant 
Winchell  Smith 
Margaret  Mayo 
Edward  Peple 
A.  E.  W.  Mason 
Charles  Klein 
Henry  Arthur  Jones 
A.  E.  Thomas 
Fred.  Ballard 
Cyril  Harcourt 
Carlisle  Moore 
Ernest  Denny 
Laurence  Housman 
Harry  Jarnes  Smith 
Edgar  Selwyn 
Augustin  McHugh 
Robert  Housum 
Charles  Kenyon 
C.  M.  S.  McLellan 


W.  W.  Jacobs 

Madeleine    Lucette   Ryley 

French's  International  Copyrighted  Edition  con 
tains  plays,  comedies  and  farces  of  international 
reputation;  also  recent  professional  successes  by 
famous  American  and  English  Authors. 
Send  a  four-cent  stamp  for  our  new  catalogue 
describing  thousands  of  plays. 

SAMUEL    FRENCH 

Oldest  Play  Publisher  in  the  World 
28-30  West  38th  Street,       NEW  YORK  CITY 


